Medic Fever
by Xeye.two.eyeX
Summary: This is a series of stories or drabbles based around Ratchet in Transformers Prime. Some might be related but most will be one-shots. All will probably be rated M. Current Story: PredakingxRatchet Next Story: Unknown
1. You Know What I Want?

Title: You Know What I Want?

Universe: Transformers Prime

Rating: MA+

Pairings: RatchetxWheeljack

Warnings: Smut. Yaoi. Robot sex. (don't like? Don't read!)

Description: Wheeljack comes back for a certain Medic's Creation Day and what Ratchet wants will shock everyone...well, except Wheeljack.

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><p>Wheeljack's sudden arrival wasn't surprising, not in the least.<p>

I expected him to come today. Of all days, he would show up today. When he landed on our doorstep for the second time since we landed on Earth, I wasn't shocked at all to see him. He always seemed to find me on this one day beyond all others. I had hoped he would be discrete but he wasn't known for his subtlety.

"Happy Creation Day, Ratchet!" he shouts as he sees me when he walks through the bridge.

And of course, the children had to be there.

"It's your birthday?" Miko squeals, jumping up and down like the obnoxious creature that she is. "Why didn't you tell us?"

I press my servo against my face in frustration. "Because, we don't have time for something as silly as a Creation Day party," I snap as Wheeljack walks over and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

"Come on, crabby-bot! Enjoy your Creation Day, just this once?" he asks, that obnoxious smirk on his face that makes me want to lash out at him. How could an individual be so smug all the time? It was annoying and…somehow alluring. "I brought high-grade!" He pats his subspace suggestively and I roll my optics even as the children start to ask questions about high-grade.

I checked my internal clock. "Oh look at the time, seems like you kids need to be getting home!" I bring up even as they groaned in disappointment. "No groaning, you three have a curfew!"

Their guardians took the hint and carted the children off. I sighed as Optimus, Wheeljack and I were left in the base with complete silence. Well…until Wheeljack's subspace hissed open and he pulled out a rather large container of high-grade. I rolled my optics but as soon as my cube was filled, I couldn't help but partake in the toxic beverage. "My special blend," Wheeljack leans over to whisper into my audio receptor suggestively. His voice was like smooth silk and I pushed him away as he laughed.

As soon as the other three came back, they joined in on the high-grade and it was officially a party. Optimus and Arcee didn't drink too much and I know I should have done the same but the heat that the high-grade sent through my system was too much. I just kept drinking until I lost count of the cubes and my world was spinning. It was good high-grade. Filtered well and aged perfectly so that it would go down as smooth as possible without losing its taste.

"Ratchet, what would you like for your Creation Day gift?" Optimus asks far too late into the party. Had I been of clear processor, I would have seen through the trick. He knew that I would tell the truth no matter what was asked.

I lulled my helm around to get the brightly colored semi in my vision. "You know what I need?" I ask, my words slurred ever so slightly. "I need a good frag and twelve hours of recharge." The filter between my processor and vocalizer was officially busted.

Bulkhead spews his high-grade out of his mouth in surprise and Bumblebee was on the ground, laughing with his new vocalizer. Arcee hid her smile behind her cube but Wheeljack didn't bother to hold in his amusement as he laughs with Bumblebee. Optimus didn't look surprised by my outburst and sipped at his high-grade slowly. "I can definitely take care of your second request though the first is beyond my powers," he chuckles brightly, his faceplate glowing with heat from the brew. "Wheeljack, why don't you escort our Commanding Medical Officer to his room so that he can get started on that recharge?"

Had I been sober, I would have heard the suggestive tone in Optimus' vocals. As it were, I was completely oblivious as Wheeljack set his empty cube to the side and looped his arm up under mine to haul me up. I noticed his strength as he dragged my bulky form through the base to the back part where my berthroom was stationed. He had no problem getting me into my room and lying me on my berth before his heat was gone.

I vaguely heard the door close but I was already starting to drift off when a large weight straddled my form. My optics fluttered online to see Wheeljack looming over me with a dark smirk on his faceplate. "Wha're ya doin'?" I slur as I stretch out on my berth, enjoying the clicks as struts realigned.

His optics devour my form just before his servo runs down my spark-chamber lightly. "Fulfilling your Creation Day wish," he whispers in a voice that is husky and so sexual that it sends a shudder down my spinal struts. Heat sears where his servo touches and I push into it without realizing it. "You always were more receptive when high-grade was involved."

"Frag you," I mutter without any real bite.

He leans down to brush his lips across my audio receptor. "That's the plan," he rasps sensually as his servo starts to dig into seams along my spark-chamber. I exhale as pleasure starts to warm my sensors, soft at first and then building in intensity as he starts to find all of my most sensitive spots.

He had had lots of practice since the war started. We hadn't known each other until we shared some battles. We had started off as drinking buddies and somewhere along the way we had ended up in a berth together. The rest, as they say, was history. Every time we were able to meet up in the war, we would spend some time in the berth together. Was it love? Who could tell in times like these? Instead, we focused on giving each other a well-deserved release.

I reached up to try and return the favor but he took my servos and placed them above my helm gently. "Ah-ah," he chuckles, running his glossa over my lips teasingly. "This is your Creation Day. This is all about you."

He presses against me, covering my mouth with his and smothering me in his heat. One servo keeps my wrists bound above my head and the other is searching for all of my spots, building my pleasure until I'm panting into his mouth. His glossa ran along mine before he pulled away and started to run his mouth down my neck. Denta nipped at exposed wires that made me arch up off of the berth in wanton need that burned all the way down to my interface panel. His glossa dipped into wires and dragged out a moan that sounded desperate even to my receptors.

Releasing my wrists, he drags his servos down my sensitive sides, catching every sensor on the way down until he is gripping my hips. He eases down to sit in-between my legs, jerking me down until our interface panels grind erotically. I throw my helm back and gasp as his heated panel causes mine to ping that it was ready.

He leaned forward to kiss me deeply. "Open up for me, Ratch," he growls, sounding heady and wanton. I can only do as he says and allow the panel to open. My moan is soft as my spike pressurizes and I can feel the lubrication starting to drip from my ready valve. His optics, bright and smug, travel down until he is looking at my equipment. "Primus, you're beautiful."

His words sink into my processor and settle. I feel myself grinding up into him, wanting, needing him more than anything. I was pretty sure that he could penetrate me right then and I'd be more than ready for the intrusion. "Wheeljack," I plead desperately, bucking into him.

I hear his panel snick open and groan when the head of his spike is running across my soaked valve. "This what you want, doctor?" he teases as his servo runs across my spike lightly.

"Primus, yes!" I beg without shame. I would never be this loud or brazen without high-grade and I was pretty sure that was why Wheeljack always had some on him when he wanted to get laid. I might grumble the next morning but, in all truth, I enjoyed our interfacing. He was a passionate and attentive lover; this was the only time where his smug, confident personality was attractive to me.

He palms my spike as his head presses forward. I gasp as my valve stretches to accommodate the girth without any preparation. Honestly, it was like heaven as he stroked my spike and rolled his hips against my valve. It was agonizing for him, I was sure, but every inch that he rocked into me was making me tremble with pleasure. How long had it been since our last coupling? I would swear it had been too long.

"So slaggin' tight," he grits out through clenched denta as he looms over me. He has one arm pressed against the berth right next to my helm and I couldn't help but admire how his colors matched him so well. His optics shifted and caught mine as he rocked half-way inside of me. "Ready, Ratch?"

I was incoherent and leaned up to kiss him as an answer. He understood my language perfectly and groped to find purchase on my side before jerking his hips forward. In one motion, he was buried deep within my valve, his head striking nodes that I would never be able to reach on my own. My servos clench at his back, desperate for grip as he kisses me senseless and doesn't pause to let me adjust. He pulls out and slams back into me without mercy.

My sounds were lost in his kiss until I had to break away to take in air. My fans kicked on as I suddenly needed to cool my systems. I cried out as he changed his angle and hit a very sensitive pack of nodes, pushing me closer to my overload. Servos grabbed a hold of me and before I could protest, I was sitting in his lap. My valve clenched in pleasure as he was driven deeper.

My hips rocked against his spike as he laid back. He didn't stop working though and thrust up into my hips as I gasped in pleasure. I shifted to find that bundle of nodes and nearly screamed when I felt the heated pleasure rush through my systems. His servos held onto my hips and pulled me down into his thrusts to create a rhythm that slowly sped up. I felt myself growing hotter and I could hear the sound of our fans running under our panting moans.

"Ratch," he groans as his servos clench into my hips. "Primus, overload for me."

Hearing his voice made my spark clench in pleasure just as his thrusts start to grow shallow and jerked. I push harder until that buildup of energy reaches the peak and for a moment I am suspended in the air. I can feel that surge of energy as he thrusts into me one last, deep time, sending me over the edge. My vocals crackle with static as I am shocked with wave after wave of energy that rocks me to my core.

My valve clenches around his spike and I hear my name as his transfluid spills into my insides. I continue pressing into him for a few seconds before I am trembling with my overload, enjoying the energy that popped across my armor. His servos slowly guide me down to the berth beside him and I close my interface panel as recharge starts to creep up on me.

His body curves around my back in a fit that was made of the same mold. His heat was comforting as I shuttered my optics and started to shut down for recharge.

The last thing I heard was Wheeljack's voice whispering, "Happy Creation Day, Ratchet."


	2. Forbidden Desires

**Forbidden Desires**

Universe: Transformers Prime

Rating: R

Pairings: RatchetxOptimus

Warnings: Smut.

Description: Takes place during "Faster, Stronger". Optimus Prime has followed the rules since he became a Prime but even though it is illegal for him to love Ratchet, he can't help himself. Now, with Ratchet's new found energy and confidence, he can't help but think of the Ratchet he met and fell for when he was Orion Pax.

A/N: Optimus may be a little cannon in this but even though he's wise in Prime, I still see him as a little innocent in some aspects. So, sorry ahead of time if he is a little cannon, you have been warned!

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><p>I was worried for my CMO.<p>

His new synthetic energon seemed to be doing wonders for his energy levels and physical prowess but I was skeptical. As far as I knew, he hadn't put it through the proper tests with spark-less machines and that didn't bode well for him. I hoped to Primus that I would be proven wrong but our luck was never so good.

I stood at the computer console and watched as Ratchet sparred with Bulkhead. He tossed the ex-Wrecker over his shoulder as if he weighed absolutely nothing. For a moment, I smiled at how much this Ratchet reminded me of the first time we had met. Before the war took…everything from him. The young warriors would be shocked if they ever knew that this was merely a glimpse of a younger, healthier Ratchet before the war began.

I could still remember Ratchet back then, before I had accepted the Matrix and became a Prime. He had been a frequent guest with his young protégés at the Iacon library. He would show the newest generation around so that they would have a resource to look up any questions they had about their field. I watched from afar, even then, as he instructed them in the way of medicine. He was intelligent, quick-witted and blunt but he knew his trade better than anyone I had ever seen walk through the library.

There were days he would come in merely to read the newest files and one day, I gathered the courage to speak with him. The conversation lasted longer than I had hoped and I knew from that moment that I needed to see him again. I didn't wait long until he came back. It became almost a weekly occurrence for him to stop by and have intellectual conversations with me.

Back then, he didn't have to work the long hours he did now.

Then one afternoon, as I was heading out of Iacon, I found him waiting for me. He smiled as I paused and blinked in confusion; why was he here? The question was soon answered when he offered to buy me a drink at a local bar and I agreed.

It was a peaceful, golden time for me…until Megatronus came into my life. Had I know what would happen when I went to the council with him, would I have gone? I know I would have but I still allow myself to wonder how my life would have turned out had I stayed in Iacon that day. Would I be dead? Would I be a foot soldier?

The one thing I did know was what I lost when I took on the Matrix. I lost my only chance of loving and being loved by Ratchet. There were strict rules on whom a Prime could love and even more on _how_. Ratchet, being the honest mech he was, followed the rules without question and so did I. When I became a Prime, I was automatically given a femme that would become my partner. Elita One, had been her name, and even though she had been destroyed in the war a long time ago, I had never truly loved her. It wasn't for lack of trying…she just never struck me the way Ratchet had.

Because, Elita One was dead, I had to go by what the laws said about choosing another partner. It would need to be a femme of high standing (not that any of us had any kind of high standing) or a mech who could bear sparklings. All Cybertronians were born with the same equipment behind their interface panel. Both femmes and mechs had spikes and valves but femmes could bear sparklings with their valves. We weren't sure when some mechs had adapted to bearing sparklings but there were mechs, popularly known as Bearers, who were much like femmes but they couldn't Sire sparklings like mechs such as myself. I was born a Sire and as such, I had to have a femme or a Bearer as a partner.

Arcee would be the first on the list if we went by the old rules. She was femme and had high standing, seeing as she was the only femme here, and she was a wonderful soldier. Strong, intelligent, a little headstrong and rash but she was a great femme. I would be a fool not to list her as a possibility but…I knew she was partial to femmes. I wasn't stupid, I knew that she and Elita One had been seeing each other behind my back and honestly, I didn't mind. I would never ask her to do something against her will; I wouldn't do the same thing to Arcee that had been done to Elita One.

Bumblebee was a possibility, believe it or not. He was a Bearer and the only reason why I knew was because Ratchet had told me when Elita One was killed. I knew he meant well but the warrior was so young. In fact, I wasn't even sure if he had ever interfaced before and I would _not_ take that from him. It went against everything I believed in.

Bulkhead and Ratchet were both like me, Sires. I would not think about Decepticons, period. I didn't really understand why Primes had to bear sparklings in the first place. It wasn't like the Matrix was passed down from Creators to sparkling. There was no way to know if being a Prime was in the spark or if it was in the processor.

I sigh deeply as my processor finally stops rolling with my thoughts and I push them to the side. I would think about all of my personal problems after I had taken care of my issue with Ratchet. Sitting up from the console I turned only to find Ratchet standing a few feet away. "R-Ratchet!" I whisper, trying to hide my shock behind a smile. "How long have you been there?"

A confident, cocky smirk crosses his lips and I find myself pinned to the console by his alien, green optics full of an emotion that made my spark flutter. "You've been watching me all day, Optimus," it wasn't a question. His optics trail down my form and I feel that gaze like fingers down my metal. Add to that the way his voice dipped lower into a husky register that seemed to run heat down my entire frame.

I was thrown off guard by this new sensation and I couldn't help but think that he knew what effect he was having on me. When had his vocalizer ever been so gruff and sultry? It was like strong high-grade and I couldn't remember ever being so aroused so easily. "I've been…worried about you, old friend," I offer with an uncomfortable smile to cover my half lie.

"Don't 'old friend' me, Optimus," he drawls, coming closer a fraction. "You can't lie to me. You like the change." He placed his servos on his hips and I was caught by how masculine his form was. His broad shoulders, his thick, heavy limbs, and his square jaw all seemed to jump out at me, like they had at Iacon so many years ago.

All of my locked feelings gushed through the dam that I had built to shield myself from the one thing I could never have. I was overwhelmed by how strong my want—no, my _need_ for the medic was. My fans kicked on involuntarily and I stared at the smug mech in shock. I thought that by locking my feelings away, they would diminish over time. Instead, they had only grown stronger.

He took a step forward but I moved away, trying desperately to get away from the torrential emotions, threatening to overtake my discipline. "Optimus," Ratchet calls as he grabs my wrist to stop me. "You are the last Prime. Those laws mean nothing if you want them to!"

His voice was sharp like a dagger and was cutting away at my resolve. His words were toxic as they sank into my processor and his servo tightened on my wrist as I ran through all the things wrong with my desires. We were both Sires; he was my CMO; I was his Prime…the list went on and on. Then…I was suddenly thinking about all the things good about my desires. We were old friends; we were both willing; and…I loved him.

"Opti—"

Using the grip on my wrist, I jerked him forward and did something I should have done centuries ago. He jolted as my lips found his but settled into the unfamiliar sensation. Centuries of pining and loving from a distance flooded into one kiss. My servos cupped his faceplate and he grabbed my hips so as to pull me closer as his glossa invaded my mouth without permission. I couldn't help the groan that issued from my vocalizer as his fingers started to trail across my seams, finding openings to explore.

Fast as lightning, I found myself on the ground with Ratchet looming over me, that confident smirk stretched across his faceplate. I found it incredibly alluring and even though we were two completely different heights, he seemed to make it work. He kissed me again and I heard my fans whine as his servos continued to search out the wires and crevices that sent waves of heat through my frame. Elita One hadn't ever had this effect on me and, sadly, the same was probably true for her.

His lips moved down my neck cables and I covered my mouth with my servo to cut off my very, un-leader-like whine. "No," Ratchet whispers, grabbing my servo. "I want to hear you, Orion."

I felt a rush of energy across my metal at the sound of my old name coming from him. All of a sudden, I wasn't in the middle of a war. I was Orion Pax, lowly librarian, a normal mech, enjoying an intimate moment with a normal medic. It was an addicting fantasy and I couldn't help my interface panel clicking open without my permission. I could already feel the lubricants seeping from my valve and my spike was standing at attention.

"Primus," he growls against my neck before scooting down to sit between my legs. With his optics holding mine, he grips my legs under the knees and bends them. I feel myself heat as he runs his optics down my open interface panel, taking everything in. Liquid fire rushes through me as I hold back the urge to close my legs. Vulnerable and open, I felt like I was embarrassing myself. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, Optimus," he utters in a throaty, breathless whisper that takes my breath away.

My optics widen when his finger rims my valve slowly. Small sparks of pleasure flood my system at the new sensation. He was taunting me, drawing it out to torture me as much as he could. Call me a masochist, but, I loved every second of it. How long had I secretly wanted this? How many times had I let myself imagine Elita One was this very mech?

My vocals turned to static when one large, talented finger was pressed into my valve. It was a feeling that nothing could compare to and if Sentinel Prime were alive, he'd die twice over. Ratchet leaned across my front to run his lips across my spark chamber, causing a moan to escape my lips as his finger wiggled just slightly, a promise of what was to come.

"I'm the first to touch your valve, aren't I?" he whispers seductively against my stomach, staring up at me with a smirk.

I try to rock against his finger with a moan but he followed the movement until I was forced to answer. "Yes! Please!" I beg loudly.

His hand shoves forward mercilessly and I am assaulted by a pleasure so foreign it scared me for a moment before it overwhelmed the fear. He does something that rocks my entire world and I arch my back into the feeling. "There?" he asks through the fog of my processor and I respond with an incoherent gasp. He flicked those nodes over and over until I was falling in a pit of pure pleasure until my overload completely overwhelmed me.

I'm pretty sure I offlined because I had to shutter my optics back on. I found myself lying on the ground with Ratchet beside me, smirking; his servo was running across my stomach lazily and I couldn't help but notice the splatter of transfluid that coated my front and his servo. My metal was tingling with energy but I was already aching for more even as he lifted his servo to lick my transfluid off. It sent a spike of pleasure straight to my core.

I felt like there was something I should say but I was lost for words. His servo traced my spark chamber idly and I could hear his fans roaring to cool his revved engine. I truly didn't know what I had been doing to him even though I hadn't been doing anything.

"How do you want it?" Ratchet whispers into my audio receptors and I about lost it again. "Spike or valve?"

No one had ever asked me that question and I leaned forward to catch his lips for a brief but heady kiss. It was now or never. I would either go all the way or I wouldn't have started this. Pulling away, I looked into his green optics and heard myself say, "Spike me."

Where I thought he would question my choice, he merely smirked and pressed that finger into my valve again. It felt nice to be penetrated but I wanted more. He pulled out just enough to push another finger in and I threw my helm back in awe. The sensation of stretching over the intrusion made my spike twitch in pleasure.

"You're tight," he moans into my receptor before he disappears down my body.

My form was quaking with pleasure as he slowly thrusts his fingers into me, dragging out my pleasure. "R-Ratchet!" I whimpered as his fingers scissor to stretch me out so that he could press another finger into my valve. Pain, slow and minute, started to spread through my stretching valve.

"Almost there, Orion," he soothes before I felt a slick glossa running up the underside of my spike. Radiant pleasure exploded through me to cover the pain and I bucked against him.

He finally pulled out after he decided I was plenty stretched and I watched as he moved in-between my legs. Anticipation made me anxious as he rubbed his thick head against my opening teasingly. He was large and I was worried that he wouldn't fit. The fear started to grow until he rocked into me barely an inch. The pain was there, certainly, but the further he got into my valve, the more I wanted.

"Ratchet!" I begged, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him as deep as he could go. He grunted but I could only pant as he started to rock his hips into mine. The tension, the connection, made me gasp and beg for more. "Primus, please!" I scream as his thrusts become hard and savage.

He wasn't going to last long and, honestly, neither was I. I was already sensitized from my first overload and I could taste the energy settling on my glossa. "I'm…I'm going to…" I muttered incoherently as my vocals slowly started to fuzz with static.

"I know, me too," he gasps as my valve clenches in warning of my coming overload. I feel the electricity crackling over my form just as his servo wraps around my spike.

"Ratchet!" I scream as the wave of overload spills over and I am bucking into his shallow, jerking thrusts.

"Primus, Orion!" he responds as my valve clenches around him, dragging him into overload with me. I feel my transfluid spill across my already stained spark-chamber and the warmth of his fluid filling me. It was something that only dragged my overload out even more. He thrusts a few more times but doesn't pull out and we both lie there panting in our overload bliss. "Never…" he begins, panting. "Took you for a spike mech."

My faceplate flushes in embarrassment but I smile through it. "Me neither."

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><p>Looking down at the mech on my berth, I felt my spark clench in pain. He had nearly died out there and honestly, it nearly killed me to have to drag him back here. Only once had he woken up since he was stabilized and I wished I could do more. Instead, I was left to lie on my own personal berth with him while he recovered. My berth was large so he fit perfectly beside me with his tubes connected to the machine on the floor.<p>

"Guh, where am I?" I jolted when he looks around the unfamiliar room.

I touch his arm lightly and smile. "My room, I figured it'd be more comfortable," I offer, stroking his metal tenderly. "How are you feeling?"

He grunts as he tries to look at his wound. "Like the Pit," he grumbles but I smile at the familiar tone. He was back to normal again. "Primus, Orion, I'm sorry to put you through this."

"We all make mistakes, old friend," I smile, moving closer to cuddle up to his uninjured side. "I'm just glad you're here, alive." He shifts slowly so that he could wrap his arm under my helm and down my back. It was…surprisingly comfortable!

There was silence for a few moments before he leans down to kiss my forehead, softly. "I'm not sorry for what we did," he whispers and I laugh happily at the admittance.

"Me neither," I smile, pressing my faceplate into his neck slowly. I didn't know how much moving would hurt him.

He pulled me closer so that he could kiss my audio receptor. "You want to do it again?" he asks gruffly, making me jerk up to stare at him in shock. He had that smug smirk on his face again but his optics were the usual blue.

"You're injured!" I state in protest but he practically eats my words by kissing them right out of my mouth. It made my metal warm even as I tried to convince myself to deny him. Honestly, whom was I kidding? I wanted to interface him so badly it nearly hurt.

His smirk was so appealing that I had to keep my interface panel from clicking open without my permission. "Well, I won't be able to do much," he starts and I suddenly get his hint. It makes my faceplate warm but I slowly shift until I was straddling his broad hips, using my servos on his stomach to steady myself. "Now, open your panel." I look down in embarrassment but do as I'm told so that he can see my spike pressurize, betraying my false calm. His optics drink in my position and he reaches forward to try and reach my valve but his tubes stop him. He winces as they tug but I press him back to the berth in worry. "I guess you'll have to prepare yourself," he says with no small amount of intense pleasure.

I honestly questioned whether I could do that in front of him or not until I heard his interface panel click open and felt the head of his spike brush across my valve. He knew how much I wanted it. Hesitantly, I let my fingers slip down until I brushed the head of my spike then, lower, until I touched the lubrication soaking my valve. Solidifying my resolve, I slipped a finger into myself and gasped at the feeling. It was different because my finger was smaller than Ratchet's but they were longer so they could reach almost the same depth.

Pushing another finger in, I allowed myself to stretch and started thrusting. I whimpered as my fingers brushed a bundle of nodes; I played with those as I tried to stretch a third finger inside, very aware of the two blue optics watching me and the spike that twitched against my hand in need. My other hand caressed over my spike as I experimented with different sensations and by the time I was stretched and ready, I was very close to overload.

"Not yet," he interrupts, knocking me out of my pleasure-laced high. I look at him and my spark pulsates at the dark desire in his optics. Shifting slightly, I withdrew my fingers and let him feel how wet I was by dragging my valve across his spike. His optics fluttered slightly as he groaned in pleasure, keeping his body prone so that his wound wouldn't be disturbed. "Orion," he almost begs, clenching his servos in impatience.

I felt myself smile as I worked to position his spike at my entrance and slowly lowering. The stretch was a pleasant burn in my valve and I couldn't help but dipping down to take all of him at once. He grunted, throwing his helm back in abandon as I experimentally rolled my hips. It had an interesting reaction from the both of us. I felt like I was doused in fire as the friction from his spike made me shudder in pleasure; he whispered my name helplessly.

My body started to move in a slow but pleasurable rhythm and our overload started to build in a steady wave that rolled across our bodies. The electricity was intoxicating and as my overload started to come on, I sped up. He was panting my name like a mantra and I was gasping into the pleasure as I brought the both of us to an overload that hit us like a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour. We fell into incoherent sounds as he lost himself in the clenching ecstasy of my valve and I writhed into jerky, shallow rocking.

I fell forward and caught myself by planting my servos on the berth beside my lover's helm. He was a shuddering mass of pleasure as his transfluids mixed with my lubrication and leaked out of my valve as I pulled away. Moving away from the berth, I went to grab the rag that was sitting on one of my make-shift tables. I cleaned both myself and Ratchet before going back to lie on the berth with him.

His servo reached out as I was climbing over him to squeeze my aft playfully. "You would have made a tempting nurse, Orion," he chuckles and I can't help but smile as I settle down beside him. With his arm wrapped around me, I scoot closer to enjoy the warmth of his body against mine. "We'll have to get you one of those costumes humans like to wear for 'adult time'."

I look at him in shock. Where had he learnt something like that? "I highly doubt they have my size," I laugh, leaning down to kiss him slowly.

We stay silent for a while as we listen to the slow hum of our sparks. "We're breaking a lot of Cybertronian laws, Optimus," he whispers softly, not sounding the least bit guilty for it.

"Does that bother you?" I ask slowly.

"No."

"Good, me neither."


	3. Sparkling Treatise: Part One

**Sparkling Treatise**

_Universe:_ Prime

_Rating:_MA+

_Pairings_: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH

_Warnings:_ Smut. (I'm detecting a theme here.)

_Description:_ After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

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><p><strong><span>Sparkling Treatise<span>**  
><em>Part One<em>

Curled in the corner of my tiny cell, I allowed the hopelessness to seep into my spark. We had lost. After centuries of fighting, Optimus was gone and the Matrix was now in the possession of Megatron. Not that it would do him any good, it hadn't chosen him before and it wouldn't now. I took a small solace in the fact that Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead were somewhere in the brig with me. I just didn't know where.

Humans were now slaves to the Decepticons and I honestly didn't know where Jack, Raf, Miko or June were. Agent Fowler had been in the battle with us so he was probably dead. I silently prayed that the kids were okay. In a short time span, I had grown quite attached to the humans since coming to Earth.

It felt like forever before the door to my cell opened with a soft hiss. I looked up to see Breakdown and Knockout as they walked in. "Come on, Medic, time to face your punishment," the bigger of the two smirks while his buddy fingers his shock staff in warning. "Nice and easy."

Had I wanted to fight back as he hauled me up by my stasis cuffs I wouldn't have had the energy to. My internals were showing me that my energon levels were dangerously low and I would need to refuel within the next two hours or I'd be a lifeless shell. That was _if_, by some miracle, I wasn't executed in the next few minutes.

Vehicons watched as I was paraded through the ship as an example. I barely had the energy to keep my helm held high but I managed to look at least a little dignified. My confidence wavered when I dragged into the main bridge area where my companions were already kneeling in front of Megatron. Starscream, who had joined up with the Decepticons again before the final battle, stood to the right of their leader and Soundwave was a stoic statue to the left. Knockout, Breakdown and Arachnia brought up the rear as the door closed behind me.

'Bee looked at me and I tried to send him a comforting smile before looking up at Megatron. "Kneel!" Knockout commands gleefully before kicking my knees in. I held back a wince as I hit the ground, hard, but kept my faceplate raised to keep some of my dignity. I just wished they would execute me already…too many ugly faceplates for my liking.

"Ratchet," Megatron smirks, showing off his denta that had been sharpened back in the Pit to make him look more menacing. I met his optics without hesitation and he seemed to see my resolve; he knew I was ready to die. I was ready for whatever punishment he could deal out. There was something though in his gaze that made me uncomfortable and I suddenly had this strange instinct telling me that he wasn't going to kill us. "If you'd be so kind as to tell me your team's orientations."

Orientations? I stare at him in confusion as I mull over the implications of such an order. There was only one reason and I didn't like it. "Why?" I ask suspiciously.

"Just answer the question, Medic," he bites off harshly. "Bumblebee."

I snap my mouth shut stubbornly and refuse to answer. It earns me a swift kick in the back and I try to keep myself from crying out. My team yells in protest but I just curl in on myself and take the dents. I was the only one who could figure out the orientation of my team and I would take it to my grave before letting Megatron hurt them.

Bumblebee is right beside me and I shake my head to keep him from saying anything. His optics are full of concern. "Stop, please!" he screams, earning a few moments of relief for me. "I'm a Bearer."

I hear the mech behind me step back but I just stay against the ground, gritting my denta. "Was that so hard?" Megatron mocks and even though I can't see him, I can visualize the triumphant look. "Knockout, he's yours."

My helm jerks up just as I see the red sports car do the same in my peripheral. "My Lord?" he questions.

Megatron sneers in my direction before he explains. "New Cybertron will need new inhabitants, won't it?" he asks, sealing my first fear into place. "If the bug isn't satisfactory…"

"No, Lord Megatron, thank you for this excellent reward," the lecherous grounder leers shamelessly.

"Bulkhead?" Megatron moves on, his optics still on me.

"I'm a Bearer," the ex-Wrecker answers before I can open my mouth. Good thing too because it wasn't going to be very nice.

"Breakdown."

Arcee's optics look to me as Breakdown takes his rival's leash quickly. I couldn't imagine Megatron giving her to Arachnia but I had been proven wrong before. Femmes couldn't bear sparklings with each other so she would probably be handed over to a Vehicon or maybe they had another general on the way. Either way, I was fearful for Arcee.

"Arachnia, the two-wheeler is yours," he solidifies my greatest fear.

"Two femmes can't bear sparklings together," I say, trying not to sound as if I were demeaning the large overlord. Even, if I was doing just that. My metal crawls when one of Arachnia's long spider legs runs across my cheek from behind.

She dips down to get on my level and I can see the smirk. "You're a smart one, aren't you?" she mocks me spitefully before straightening. "If you must know, Ratchet, I was born a mech. I just chose to become a femme. So many warriors underestimate a femme and it gives me the perfect opportunity to take advantage of that."

The implications of her words sink into my spark and it nearly breaks when Arcee screams in terror. She is spun in that sticky web and thrown over the spider's shoulders. I tried to get to her but a thick pede was placed in my back to keep me down. If Arcee had to bear sparklings to her rival…I shuttered my optics and chose not to think about it. At the very least, they had me to take care of them.

"You are all dismissed," Megatron states, making my spark clench in disgust as I am left in the room with only him and his Third. "Now, Ratchet, as for you…"

"I'm a Sire," I snap, knowing for a fact that Megatron was as well. There was no way we could be compatible and for that, I was thankful.

He chuckles darkly before shaking his head. "No, I have my own Bearer," he taunts wickedly. "What I want from you is special. If you can complete this task, I will allow you to see your human pets."

I perk up. "They are okay?" I ask and my voice sounds desperate even to me.

"They are alive," he says shortly before gesturing to the tall spy beside him. "Soundwave is a Bearer and has had limited experience with interfacing. I figure as a medic, you would be best to teach him."

Soundwave was a Bearer? I never would have guessed. I knew Starscream was a Bearer (and that was probably why Megatron let him come back), but Soundwave? It didn't surprise me, however, that the silent mech had little, maybe no, experience with interfacing. He didn't seem like the type to enjoy much physical contact.

"If I do this…I get to see the children?" I ask, keeping my optics away from Soundwave.

Megatron, sensing my surrender, smirks. "You may, as soon as Soundwave reports back to me of your success," he compromises before turning to his Third. "He is yours."

Then, the leader is gone, leaving me with this silent mech that I knew almost nothing about. I watched as the Third turned around and went to his computer console to type something out. My optics fluttered in confusion. Was he just going to leave me here? My knees were starting to hurt and the stasis cuffs were making my servos go numb.

It wasn't a minute before the door behind me opened again to show a Vehicon with two cubes of energon in his servos. "Sir," the lowly mech states in his monotone voice, catching the attention of the spy who pulled away from his computer to walk past me. He took the cubes from the soldier, who left.

I gasped when the stasis cuffs unlatched from around my wrists without any warning. My arms were stiff but I gently massaged the wires to get energon flowing again. He offered me a cube in one of his long, lithe servos and I thankfully took it. My internals were blaring at me by now and I downed the entire thing in one go only to have the other offered up as well.

My systems equalized but I still sipped at the energon, glad, at least, that Soundwave was aware of my needs. Honestly, I was just stalling because I had no clue where to go from there. He was taking a pretty big risk by letting me refuel and go without my stasis cuffs but he didn't look at all worried.

As I sat there, he slipped a datapad down in front of me and I stopped drinking to take it. My legs strained when I stood up but the Third merely turned back to go to his computer as I looked over the pad. It was a list of rules that I was to follow. It was pretty straightforward and gave me everything I needed to know. I was confined to his berthroom, which he would show me to later, and the med-bay when Knockout or Breakdown was present. I was to keep constant communications up so that Soundwave could contact me at any time. He would bring me my daily energon and if the med-bay was inaccessible then I was to stay by his side.

"Easy enough," I mutter, wondering why he was being so accommodating. "You can't communicate through datapad when it comes to getting down to business." I watched his back and saw the slight growing of tension in his spinal struts. He didn't want to talk about it; that was obvious but if I was going to see the children then I needed to get this over with. Was I excited about interfacing with him? No, not particularly, but he wasn't ugly, by any means.

Actually, as my optics started to trail across his tall, lithe figure, I noticed how handsome he was. Long limbs seemed gangly when you barely looked at him but there was actually a grace to his form. He had his symbiote attached to his chestplate and there was a mask over his faceplate hiding that from me. His colors were beautiful and dark and he had these long, unique legs that went on forever. He was more attractive than Breakdown, at least. Had I been given that one…I shuddered to think what it would have been like.

I jumped when the datapad cleared and text started to scrawl across it. _Later._ That was it? There wouldn't be a later for the children if we didn't get started. It made me fume but I stayed silent. Getting angry wasn't going to further the process of sparking-up this mech. My optics went back to the datapad as new text started to appear. _I don't like being touched._

"Well that's going to be a problem because it's kind of required," I state, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration.

He turns off his computer and I subspace the useless datapad as it goes blank. His helm nods before he starts for the door. I guessed I was being shown to my new room and followed as he walks through the corridors. Without the cuffs, Vehicons who had laughed at me not an hour ago kept their distance. At least they knew I could take any of them down in a second if I needed.

Soundwave went deep into the Nemisis until he pauses at a door, which hisses open at a silent command. We step through the doorway and I'm shocked by how…personal the room was. There was a berth and a desk where a computer was stationed but it was more than that. A small table next to the door held small knick-knacks such as a crystal from our home planet, a cube that held holograms, a piece of a spark chamber with red paint on it, and a scrap of metal with a Decepticon sigil on it. He had Cybertronian paintings on his walls and there was a hand-crafted chair in the corner with a shelf full of datapads on it.

Honestly, I was floored and stood in the doorway like a fraggin' sparkling, gawking. Soundwave turned to look at me over his shoulder and followed my optics. Shaking my head, I stepped forward so that the door could close behind me. "This is…nice," I say, breathless. I had been expecting something more conservative but this was a room that I could see a sparkling thriving in.

His mask stared at me blankly. Slowly, he brought his servos to his mask and unhooked it. My spark was pounding against its chamber, finding myself anxious and…excited to see his faceplate. He pulled away the mask hesitantly and looked at me. My spark, literally, stopped for a full three seconds as I stared at his faceplate. His optics were Decepticon-red in a sea of black but they were slender, almond-shaped just slightly slanted at the end corners. His face was sleek and went down to a sharp point with a mouth that seemed to be turned into a frown permanently.

He was…gorgeous.

"Oh…wow," I find myself muttering as he sets his mask to the side. "You're…ah…"

His optics shift down in a rare show of humility and I was taken aback by how much emotion they reflected. He turned away and pointed at a door adjacent to the exit. I went over as it opened to see a bathroom; it would be nice to get all of the grime off of my armor. Working with the controls, I fixed the temperature to the perfect setting before grabbing at a cloth setting on the table to the side.

"No," I heard an unfamiliar voice say from behind. My spark jumped in anxiety until I turned to see Soundwave standing there with a few things in his long arms. "Let me."

Again, I find myself gawking at him. His voice was a smooth, almost sultry tenor that wasn't too high but just enough to make him sound young. It was a lot like refined energon, silky and delicious. It was the kind of vocalizer that you wanted to whisper dirty things into your audio receptor. Honestly, I was starting to like this 'punishment'. It was starting to seem that Megatron liked me more than he let on.

"Excuse me?" I ask, shaking myself out of my stupor.

He pauses to set his armful down, showing a couple of tools that were used to fix dents. "Objective: Grow accustomed to physical contact," he says, his voice monotone but still beautiful. This whole experience was a complete optic lighter. His body was beautiful, a little lanky, but his face was that of an Angel and his voice was even better. It was everything he hid that made him absolutely irresistible.

Who was I to say no to a full body cleaning and maintenance? "Very well then," I say, trying to cover my excitement. I wait until he gets close, noticing that his symbiote, Laserbeak was no longer on his chest. He walks up close enough to touch but I hold back; I needed to let him be the first to initiate contact.

His servo reaches out, hesitant, to touch my arm, pushing me with just a hint of pressure to the water where I was slowly lowered to a small chair stationed in the spray. "Close your optics," he whispers, obviously very nervous even if I couldn't see his faceplate. It wasn't really a command either; he was the Third in Command and he was nervous about this? He really _hadn't_ had much experience with intimacy.

Servos started at my shoulders and worked their way down my arms. It was the lightest of touches but as the water started to drip down my form, it seemed to meld into something more intimate. The touch disappeared for a moment before I felt the tools against a dent on my back. It wasn't a painful procedure but it was loud as the dents were popped out one by one.

Then, I felt a rag running down my metal and I sighed into the contact. It was slow and he made sure to get every seam on my back. I wasn't sure if he knew that some of those places were sensitive and were sending heat through my system. He was thorough but I could tell he was stalling so that he wouldn't have to move on.

Finally, he moved to stand in front of me. I opened my optics to stare up at him, caught by the water dripping down his sleek frame. He stood there, holding the rag, at a loss. "Come here," I whisper, holding my servos out for him. His lips thinned out in anxiety but after a few moments, he stepped forward. I took his servos to pull him down onto my lap. His response was instantaneous in the tightening of his struts as he slowly settled with his long legs straddling my hips. "Relax."

I ran my servos down his back struts, feeling the metal shiver under the unfamiliar touch. The tension started to melt away from him as I massaged his stressed struts back into alignment; taking the time to recalibrate the things I could without looking. "That feels good," he breathes, showing me his sharpened denta. He was, at one point, a Pit fighter and it shocked me.

"Good," I smile, encouraging him to finish his cleaning. He started at my neck and I let out a soft moan as he digs the cloth into some sensitive wires. His hand jerks back but I catch him before he can bolt. "No, that's good." His optics reflect his nerves and I smile gently. "Keep going."

Slowly, he started to grow confident as I leaned back and just enjoyed the attention. He stopped at my spark chamber and I smirked, reaching to take the rag. "Negative, I can-"

"No you won't," I laugh, turning him around so that his aft was sitting pressed against my interface panel. It was a sexy picture and I saved it for later as I ran the rag down his back, dipping into seams that I knew would drive him mad. His metal was heating at a rapid pace and I enjoyed the effort he gave to cover his pleasure. It was quite adorable. "Like that?" I whisper into his audio receptor as I let the rag dip under the plating that connected his hip to his leg.

He couldn't hold in the moan that slipped from his silky vocals and it made my fans kick on. He had so much sex appeal but he was clueless! Growing bold, I leaned forward and let my lips lightly brush his neck cables. My free servo grips his hip gently to keep him from jumping up but I was pleasantly surprised when he pressed back into the sensation. He was becoming braver and more confident; I just needed to bring it out of him. With a soft sound, I wrapped my arm around him to run the rag over his interface panel.

His servo groped for my wrist but instead of pushing me away, he just seemed to need something to hold on to. I ran the rag across the edge of his panel, teasing with just enough pressure to set his fans whirling. My lips brushed across his audio receptors lightly. "Open up for me, Soundwave," I command lightly.

I think it was his name coming from my vocals that made him let go and release his spike, which pressurizes into my waiting servo. He bucks as my fingers curl around him, stroking the wet length with just enough pace to create friction. "A-Ah," he gasps, clenching at my arm desperately.

The rag was forgotten as I slipped my other servo down until I was tracing his valve slowly. He tensed, instantly, but I kiss his neck gently. "Shh, I'm not going to hurt you," I promise, stroking his spike to distract him. He still didn't relax so I nuzzled his neck. "It's up to you, Soundwave. You're in control. If you aren't ready then pull my servo away." He stays still for a few moments but reaches down to tug my hand away from his valve. I can almost taste his embarrassment for making me stop and he shuts down again. "It's okay, Soundwave, I can wait. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

My soothing words seem to relax him and I continue to stroke his spike. "Here," I say, putting a bit of pressure on his shoulder. "Turn around." He returns to straddling me and I unlock my own interface panel. My spike pressurizes but I hold him still, smiling. "Just watch." I shift so that I can rub my spike against his earning a soft sigh of pleasure from the stoic spy.

Testing the waters, he rolls his hips and I moan at the sharp friction that results. Stroking his side, I let my fingers wander into seams to tweak wires that made him buck his hips in wanton desire that burns through my core. His helm leans back and I move forward to lick down his neck with my glossa, enjoying the taste of his purple and black metal. With a smirk, I let my large servo wrap around our spikes and stroke them in tandem.

He almost whimpers in pleasure, leaning forward to press his forehead against mine. I cycled some air as I sped up, enjoying the slow, easy overload that was starting to build inside of me. "Ratchet," he whispers in abandon, making my metal crackle with electricity. I was really close. "Can…Can I kiss you?"

"Primus, yes!" I gasp just as he leans down to brush his lips across mine, hesitant. Then, he was pressed against me, lips devouring mine. I get lost in the kiss as his glossa flicks across the inside of my mouth, trying to envelop me in the heat that we were creating. Steam lifted from our burning bodies as he bucks wildly in my servo, demanding more with just his body.

My body tingles with energy just as he breaks the kiss and throws his head back. His transfluid spills against my servo and the release of energy causes me to tip over the edge. I continue pumping in our overload, dragging every possible drop of pleasure from the Third.

He slouches against me in exhaustion as I grab the discarded rag to clean us off, allowing the water pouring over us to cool us down. "Good?" I ask teasingly as he rests his head against my shoulder. He merely nods and I smile before picking him up in my arms to take back into his room. Our heated metal evaporated the water instantly as I deposited the exhausted mech on his berth, which was, surprisingly, large enough for the both of us to fit comfortably.

His form slipped to the wall to let me lie down next to him. With a smile, I settle down, shocked, when he moved closer to wrap his arm across my bulky body. I slipped my arm under his helm to press him against my side. He was already in deep recharge though. Smiling, I was pleasantly surprised that I was actually quite comfortable with the Decepticon Third in my arms and I slipped into recharge almost instantly.

My internal alarm blared to life at a Primus-awful hour of the morning, like always. My internals started to reboot slowly until I opened my optics to stare at the ceiling. Today was different though because I woke up with something cradled in the curve of my body. I had my arm wrapped around a slender waist and I could feel the dramatic body form-fitted to me.

I propped myself up on my elbow, cradling my helm in my servo and looked down at the recharging mech. Had someone told me a week ago that I would be lying in Soundwave's berth, staring at his beautiful faceplate in awe, I would have called them a liar. Now that I was here…I couldn't complain. Don't get me wrong, when I brought up the memory of Optimus…it hurt, it really did. But, I also knew that Optimus would want me to move on and not dwell on his death. Instead, I should be trying to figure out a way to destroy Megatron or getting the Matrix back.

Soundwave stirred as I ran a servo against his cheek. His optics fluttered to life and he looked up at me through a haze of lingering recharge. "Good morning," I whisper so as not to startle his rebooting audio receptors.

He blinks before stretching out, throwing his long arms over his helm. The show was…alluring in an innocent way and I couldn't help but run my optics down his lithe form appraisingly. "Good morning," he responds as he relaxes, staring up at me. I could tell he was just as offset by this as I was. "Confirmation needed." His voice was husky with persisting lag.

"Okay," I chuckle at his formal way of speaking.

"Yesterday, happened," he states softly, running his fingers across my shoulder. It was a bold gesture from him and it made my spark warm to see him getting used to physical contact.

I laugh brightly, throwing my head back to enjoy the moment. Never, in a millennia, would I have thought I'd be laughing and joking with a Decepticon, let alone the Third. "Yes, yesterday happened," I smile, taking his servo to kiss the fingers lightly. "And it will happen again, whenever you want."

His lips quirk in the smallest of smiles, it was beautiful. "I am needed," he states, moving to sit up. I slip off of the berth to help him up; he stares skeptically before humoring me. His servo reaches over to grab the mask on the side table. "You are to report to the med-bay to work with Knockout while I am with Megatron."

"Okay," I say, sad to see his beautiful faceplate covered by his mask. It was such a waste of a craftsman's art but I guessed he did it to keep attention away from him so that he could do what he did best. "Show me the way?"

He hesitates at the door but nods his head, transforming into the stoic Third everyone else knew him as in a second. The trip was short. I was ushered into the room where Knockout was humming as he walked around the large room with several vehicons waiting for minor repairs. I saw Bumblebee sitting across the room in a corner being put to work with some minor paint touch up work. He didn't seem like he was hurt, at least, from here.

Knockout turns around as he hears the door swish closed, his optics taking in the fact that Soundwave was standing beside me. "Good, I could use some help," he comments, ignoring the sneering commentary that was running through his processor. "The bug is pretty useless on anything more than paintjobs."

Soundwave nods his helm and I watch as he walks out of the bay without a single word. I cringed at the thought of helping the vehicons but I walked up the closest one and got to work. I needed something menial to take my mind off of what was going on around here. There were plenty of vehicons to work on and I went through them faster than Knockout, it seemed.

"Oh, you're good," Knockout smirks as I finish up with the last of the minions. Bumblebee was just getting done with his last paintjob of the day; it had taken barely three hours to fix over a dozen vehicons. I'm sure many more had died or left for dead on the battlefield.

I stood when the vehicon left, wiping my servos with a rag to get rid of the energon and grime. "You don't get to be my age without learning a thing or two," I retort, looking at Bumblebee. I was worried about the youngling. He had barely said a word since I arrived and he was just staring at the ground now. "Do I need to do a check on Bumblebee?"

Knockout looked up from the datapad, humming in question before a nasty smirk breaks out across his faceplate. "Probably wouldn't be a bad idea," he says in a nasty tone of voice that makes my metal crawl. "You can go into the backroom for privacy."

Throwing him a twisted smile, I usher the young 'bot into the room. I knew that I was being watched through cameras so I would have to tread lightly. "Up you go," I say, helping the yellow grounder up onto the berth carefully. "He didn't…" Of course Knockout hurt him. "He wasn't too rough was he?"

Bumblebee looks up at me with his wide, innocent blue optics and I saw the change in him. I don't know how, but I could see the innocence was gone. He had the optics of a ravaged mech. "I would have preferred it if he had," the mech whispers, wrapping his arms around himself.

My spark sank at him tone. "What did he do, 'Bee?" I soothe, instinctively wrapping my arms around the youngling to comfort him.

He leaned into my strength and, had he been human, he would have cried. Instead, he poured his spark out to me. "He made me enjoy every second," he whimpers, hiding in my spark-chamber, ashamed. "Made me beg for it."

I squeezed the young mech in my arms, glad, at least, that he hadn't been savagely raped. My mouth stayed shut and I rocked the scout gently to soothe his aching spark. He thought it was his fault, thought he deserved every second of it. Knockout, the piece of scrap, had made Bumblebee feel like some common whore when he was so much more.

After a few more moments of quiet remorse, I had the mech lay up on the table so that I could give him a proper check-up. Bearers were tricky mechs. They needed constant surveillance to make sure they were functioning properly or there could be dangerous consequences. It was a little harder to spark-up a Bearer than a femme but it was the same process. You needed the Sire's transfluid in the Bearer/femme and then there needed to be a spark-on-spark connection. If done properly, the transfluid would be activated by the energy of overload and a spark would form from a mixture of the two spark-energies and the fluids. The carrier would soon take the small spark in close to their own while the reproduction chamber, kind of like a womb, would start to create a protoform for the spark. After the protoform was finished and the spark strong enough to power the form (approximately 3-4 months), the spark would travel down to the reproductive chamber where it would settle in the protoform. Finally, the reproductive chamber would open and the sparkling would be booted up for the first time.

It was a beautiful process but because mechs were built differently than femmes, there were sometimes complications. If there was too much stress put on the mech then the small spark could be overwhelmed and it would go out. This was also true for femmes but their sparks were usually made stronger to naturally compensate for the process. If the mech wasn't watched closely, the reproductive chamber could collapse, destroying the protoform and I would have to cut open the chamber to try and save the form.

"Everything looks good, 'Bee," I say as I finish up the check-up. Thankfully, 'Bee was young and very healthy. He would be a fine Bearer and Creator if the proper environment was cultivated. The young mech walks out of the backroom as Knockout calls for him. I needed to speak with Megatron, as soon as possible. "Soundwave, I know you're watching, I need to talk with Megatron."

Mere seconds later, I felt a comm.-link sync up with mine. _"Affirmative,"_ is all he replies with before cutting the connection off.

What the frag did that mean?

I fume as I walk out of the backroom, grimacing when I see Breakdown coming into the med-bay with Bulkhead trailing behind him. "Good, you're here," I say, catching the pair's attention. "I need to give Bulkhead his check-up."

Breakdown looks over at Knockout, who shrugs his shoulders. It was enough. "Sure, go ahead Bulky," he sneers but something in his vocal was different. Was that…affection? I shake it off as the green Wrecker ambles over to me, an odd gait in his normal walk.

My mouth stays shut until I walk into the backroom. "You okay, Bulk?" I ask, finally.

He gets up onto the berth without my command before shrugging his shoulders. "Actually, it's not so bad with Breakdown," he admits, confirming my thoughts. "He's a little rough but he wasn't terrible." I read between the lines so that he didn't have to say anything. Breakdown was a softy and he had done Bulkhead right. Besides, you didn't become a Wrecker by playing it safe. I'm sure Wheeljack could vouch for that. "How's 'Bee?"

I gesture for him to lie down and get to work. He popped his panel without me asking so that I could get a good look at his valve. It looked raw but there weren't any tears or rips in the dense walls. "Physically? He's fine," I start, checking a few other things before manually closing his panel. He sits up to look down at me. "Mentally? Not so good. It's mostly because Knockout is a piece of slag and can't do anything nice to save his function. I think they'll grow into the relationship."

We stay silent for a few moments before Bulk sighs. "So…this is a long-term kind of thing?" he asks with a defeated tone.

"Yes," I surrender. There were no plans to get out of this. How could we without a Prime? Megatron was much too strong to take out without the Matrix. We'd need to get the Matrix then find a 'bot that it would accept. Maybe, it would chose one of the four remaining Autobots but I couldn't be certain and I wasn't going to risk them for a 'what if'.

Bulkhead lowers his helm but doesn't stay sullen for long. "You and…Soundwave?" he hesitates, obviously very curious. I nod my helm. "Doc, are _you _okay?"

His concern was sweet but I just chuckled. "I'm fine," I say, letting him think whatever he wanted to think. "He's…not terrible." Bulk wasn't stupid, he understood what I meant. He would assume we had interfaced and he wouldn't know that I was the Sire and Soundwave the Bearer but he could guess that it was like the situation between him and Breakdown.

We walked out into the med-bay just as the door swished open to show Soundwave. I couldn't help it when my spark fluttered at his now familiar form standing there. He turned his mask towards me, then turned around to walk out of the room. With a poorly hidden smile, I follow after him. This was going to be an interesting meeting.

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><p>To Be Continued...<p> 


	4. Sparkling Treatise: Part Two

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH

Warnings: Smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

* * *

><p><strong>Sparkling Treatise<strong>  
><em>Part Two<em>

Megatron, surprisingly, was rather receptive to my ideas. As a Pit-warrior, he wasn't as versed in raising sparklings as I was so he never knew the complications that could come about with Bearers. I helped to set up a plan of regular check-ups for mechs and femmes that were to be religiously kept. With this plan came a recipe for energon that had additives in it for carrying mechs or femmes.

"The final and most important step is the environment," I say, very aware that Soundwave was recording this meeting for later use. Megatron quirked an optic ridge at my words. "If the Bearer or femme doesn't have a stress-free, comforting environment then complications can happen."

"And you are worried about your Bearers and femme?" he questions, actually rather curious.

"I'm not worried about Bulkhead or Starscream but I am worried for Bumblebee and Arcee," I admit openly. If he wanted the truth then he would get the slaggin' truth. "Bumblebee is still very young and has known nothing but war. He needs a Sire who will be a little more sensitive in the coming months."

Megatron tented his servos in thought. "You think Knockout is verbally abusing his Bearer." It wasn't a question.

I chose my words carefully. "I don't think he means it the way Bumblebee is taking it," I explain slowly. "If you'll give me permission to speak with Knockout, I could offer some suggestions on opening up good communications."

He thinks about it, actually _things_ about it, but in the end he shakes his helm. "No, I shall speak with him. Now, as for Arcee…I do worry about her rivalry with her Sire but I will have Arcee report to you every morning for a check-up," he compromises and I stare at him in shock. I hadn't thought it would go this well but Megatron seemed to want the best for the future sparklings. "I will also have Starscream report to you for a check-up tomorrow morning."

I nod my helm, glad for a role in the creation of sparklings. Perhaps…this was what we needed to bring the two factions together for peace? Sires were known for taking on a nurturing persona when it came to dealing with their Bearers and femmes. Maybe this was the start of a new era for Cybertronians? We would have to somehow convince Megatron to relinquish his hold on the humans but with the softening of sparks once there are tiny mechs and femmes running around, it might be easy to sway him.

"Also," Megatron starts just as I was about to be escorted back to the med-bay. "How is your own…relationship progressing?" I felt Soundwave's form take on a lot of tension at the personal question. He obviously was very uncomfortable with his inability to just jump into full blown interfacing.

My lips quirk into a secretive smile. "I am an old 'bot, Megatron. I enjoy taking things slow," I place all of the responsibility on my shoulders. Soundwave needed to be made aware that I was perfectly fine with going the snail's pace when it came to interfacing. Actually, it was good foreplay for the main event.

He smirks knowingly. "Well, as long as you make sure my Third is…satisfied," he states suggestively, making Soundwave's body heat boost in embarrassment. "Dismissed."

Soundwave practically bolts out the door to get away from his discomfort. "I'll need to give you a check-up, as well," I mention as we head back towards his-our room. He pauses in shock, making me stop to look back at him. "Relax, Soundwave, you worry too much." He stares at me through his mask. I wish I could see his faceplate to gauge his emotions but he was a stoic statue.

He quickly continues for our room. I knew he wanted to communicate but he was suspicious of the vehicons on this ship so I waited until we were behind closed doors. He pulled his mask off to show me his perfect faceplate. "Confirmation needed," he states in his Angelic voice. Primus, if I hadn't missed hearing it. "Procedure includes valve, correct?"

"Yes, I will have to touch your valve," I answer honestly, gently. "I'll go as slow as you want me to, Soundwave and I promise that it won't hurt." My servos reached out to touch his shoulders gently, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "We can even do it right here if you want."

"Affirmative," he whispers hesitantly.

I smile and guide him over to the berth to lay him down. He is nervous and tense; I can feel it in his back as I help him to lie down. "I'll walk you through the entire process," I promise."It's an easy procedure, Soundwave. I need to ask you a few questions pertaining your…interface history first because you're not one of my patients. I need complete honesty."

"Affirmative."

Taking out the datapad that I had claimed as my own from Soundwave. I had already created a format for the check-ups and decided that I needed to start from scratch with Soundwave. "When was the last time you interfaced with someone?" I started.

"Two centuries, approximately," he answers without hesitation and I jerk my helm up in shock. That was a…very long time to go without interfacing. Cybertronians were known for their openness about intimacy; if we needed a release then we would find someone to help. To go that long without any kind of stress relief was unheard of.

I decided to let it pass, for now. "Have you ever had a sparkling?" I ask next.

"Negative."

Easy enough… "The last time you had interface, did you experience any strange pain or discomfort?" I finally ask, saving the worst questions for last.

He tenses but answers honestly. "Affirmative," he confirms my fears. I figured he was afraid of valve-play because it wasn't comfortable for him. There might be a minute tear or cut that needed patching and it was obvious Knockout wouldn't be allowed anywhere near this 'con.

"How long has it been since your last check-up?" I ask softly, running my servo across his leg soothingly.

His hesitation is enough of an answer for me. "Centuries," he answers vaguely and I nod my helm.

"Were you ever intimately abused?" I ask finally.

"Negative," he quips, too quickly.

I reach out and take his servo lightly. "Soundwave, I have to know these things. I will take anything say here to my grave," I affirm with conviction. Not only was he my patient, he was my Bearer. When that thought passed through my processor, I felt a surge of hot possessiveness that jolted me to the core. When had I started looking at Soundwave as…mine?

His fingers curl around my servo and I can practically feel the 'con steeling himself from the inside out. "Affirmative," he finally whispers. The big surprise was when he went on before I could say anything. "It was back in the Pits. There were underground fights for VIP members, mostly politicians, where the loser wasn't killed…they were—"

I felt my spark clench with disgust. He didn't have to finish his sentence before I was already filling in the blank. Before the war, I had spent some time in politics and my biggest agenda was to get the Pits closed down or heavily regulated. It was a waste of Primus-given life and I abhorred the sport back then. Now that I knew this new piece of information, I felt sick to my spark.

We were silent for a long time while I finished recording all of this new information before I stood up. "Alright, Soundwave," I say slowly. He jerks at the sound of my voice and I wish I could do something to ease his fears. "I think your problem with discomfort has to do with a cut or tear in your valve wall so I'm going to have to check the integrity of your valve and possibly patch the problem up."

He nods his helm, shuttering his optics in what looked like a blatant show of fear. "Understood," he whispers but I can hear the apprehension in his vocals.

"I'll walk you through the whole thing, okay? I won't do anything without telling you first," I offer up as my only way of making this go by easier. "I'm going to position your legs." Gently placing my servos under his knees, I bend them so that I can get at his panel. I would be a liar if I didn't admit that seeing him positioned like this didn't heat my engine just a little. He just looked so scared and I wanted to ease his doubt in any way that I could. "I'm going to check the seams of your panel."

Gently, I run my fingers across the seams of his dark purple and black panel, checking that it was sealing properly. His servos clench on the berth as his panel starts to heat in an involuntary response to the contact. "Confirmation needed," he whispers, trying to hide the worry in his vocals.

"It's completely normal to feel pleasure," I smile, answering his question. He leans back down and nods his helm telling me to continue. With a few more moments, I verify that his seal is functional and decide to move on. "I need you to open your panel for me." I heard the small snick as he did so. "Good, I'm going to sit down right here and I'm going to check the outside of your valve. I won't do anything more until I tell you."

He nods his helm and I sit down on the chair facing his open panel. I can't help but think that he was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous with a valve that was colored just as his body was, in black and purple rings. I manually heated my servos to kill any bacteria that may have accumulated before returning them back to a comfortable temperature. I didn't want to burn him or shock him with cold fingers.

Gently, I ran my finger along the very outer rim to check it's flexibility and the position it was in to make sure nothing was amiss. Valves were strong but if they were put through very violent interface without proper preparation then it could cause terrible complications. I felt him twitch as I hit a bundle of nodes around the rim and I smiled when he started to involuntarily lubricate. "Don't be embarrassed," I say when he tries to inch away. "It's perfectly normal to react like this. I'm going to stretch the rim just a little bit to check elasticity."

I wait until he nods his helm again before taking the index fingers from both servos and stretching the rim very gently. His reaction was instantaneous. He let out a small moan, the sweetest sound I had ever heard. His spike was already pressurizing, showing me the ribbed texture of black and purple that took over his whole form. I took a little extra time with this, trying to get him accustomed to the pleasure that could come from valve-play. Especially, when it was done properly.

"I'm going to check your walls," I warn, glad that he was lubricating properly because, if not, it would be uncomfortable. "Just one finger for now, okay?" He gave me permission and I pressed a digit into his valve, which was tight from centuries of neglect. It was slick with lubrication though so I got a long drawn out moan for the first half of my finger. I twisted my finger to check every inch of the walls, looking for the tear that I knew would be somewhere. Usually, tears were from the first penetration and were close to the front because of mis-angled thrusts. "Stay relaxed," I whisper as I feel him starting to tense. I was getting closer, at least.

I knew the moment I hit it for two reasons: One, I felt the jagged misplaced piece of valve that nearly cut my finger, and, two, he jolted and let out a pained yelp. "It's okay, it's okay," I state, jumping up to press my servo to his stomach so he didn't move and hurt himself. "It's an easy fix just bear with me." I pulled out my finger and grabbed a tube of sealant to fix the cut. "I'm going to put some fast acting sealant on the cut to fix the torn valve wall. It will numb the pain as well."

He tries to relax and I smile before reaching with my free servo to stroke up his spike. I hear his musical groan just as I slip my finger back into his valve, going straight to the cut. Putting a slight bit of pressure on the cut wall to press it back into place. My servo continues pumping the mech's spike, distracting him effectively until his valve was sealed and the cream took effect. "Finished," I whisper, pressing a kiss to his thigh lightly. "I just need to check one more time."

I was pretty sure he was all for more than just a check as I pressed in deeper. His hips bucked against my servo as I 'accidentally' brushed across a large bundle of nodes. Lubricants flooded his valve and his spike twitched in need. My other servo was happy to stroke the needy shaft as my finger ran across the inside of his valve with just enough pressure to strike every node.

Smirking deviously, I went to pull my finger out. "Well, you're all fixed," I say, taking my servo away from his spike as well. His whimper of disappointment was pure sugar to my audio receptors as he reached down with his long arms to grab my wrist. I lock optics with him, seeing his blatant need. "Tell me what you want, Soundwave."

His faceplate flushes with heat before he drags my wrist back to his valve. "D-Don't stop," he nearly begs, averting his optics.

Victorious, I lean forward to kiss his servo. "I'll do one better," I whisper huskily before spreading his legs further. He watched in apprehension as I pressed forward to lick the rim of his valve. His helm fell back in a gasp of shocked pleasure and I nearly moaned at the sweet taste of his lubricants.

"R-Ratchet!" he pleads as I press my glossa into his tight valve, lapping at a bundle of nodes lightly. I would have him praying to Primus in no time. Quickly, I toss his legs over my shoulders so that I could press in as close as possible. His thighs close on the sides of my helm just as he panted his enthusiasm, obviously wanting more. "Please!"

How could I deny such a sweet voice? With my glossa still buried inside of his valve, I added a finger slowly. His hips pressed down in desperation as I thrust my glossa and finger in and out of him at a quick pace. I would make his first real valve overload so powerful, he would have to reboot his systems. His valve was tightening in response to his climbing overload and I could taste the energy mixing with his lubricants as I took my glossa away to press in another finger.

That did it. He screamed my name in reckless abandoned and bucked his hips in his overload. Lubricants gushed around my fingers and his spike spilled his transfluids as he gasps to take in enough air to cool his core temperature. It was the sweetest overload I had ever drawn from someone in my entire function. I pulled my servo away and licked the lubricants away, enjoying the spasms that shuddered through the Third's form.

He straightened his legs out after a few minutes of heavy cycling to sit up on shaky arms, staring down at me with his red optics. For a few moments, we sat in silence before he slipped off the berth and proceeded to sit in my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck tightly. Needless to say, I was stunned dumb. Slowly, I returned the embrace, allowing myself to think that this would work out for the better. I tried not to let myself think about factions or wars; instead, I just enjoyed the soft moment as we took comfort in each other's arms.

His helm came up off of his arms so that he could lean forward and kiss me. It was a sweet, tender kiss that I never would have expected from a Decepticon raised in the Pits. No, it was probably the best kiss I had ever received in my long function. "Thank you," he whispers after he pulls away. "That was…satisfactory."

I quirk an optic ridge at him playfully but accept the compliment for what it was. "Next time I'll have to try better," I tease lightly, causing him to flush with heat. "Now, let's get back to work. I'd like to see if I can't con Arcee out of the web for her check-up."

He stays silent for a second before nodding his head. "In transit," he states as he stands up to grab his mask. I stare at him in shock but smile. I guess that was why he was the communication's specialists, though. He gestures towards the door and we depart towards the med-bay.

The door swishes open to show that my entire team is standing around Arcee who, shockingly enough, doesn't look too bad. She had a few scratches here and there but it seemed like she was doing fairly well. Her optics turned and I saw the relief that flooded her until she saw Soundwave. I saw the preverbal light bulb go off in her optics before she looked away. She, at least, knew that I had been given to Soundwave. I wasn't sure how she felt about it but I could probably guess.

"Arcee," I say, walking over to lay a servo on her shoulder. She seemed so slouched into herself as she sat there, staring at the ground. "Let's go into the backroom for some privacy." She nods her helm and allows me to walk her to the adjacent room. Her shoulders were collapsed as if she just couldn't hold her weight up. "She didn't hurt you, did she?"

Her lips purse in an emotion that I have a hard time deciphering. I couldn't read her even as she looked up at me, wrapping her arms around herself. "I thought she would," she begins slowly. "I thought she would be brutal and I wouldn't walk out functioning…"

"But?"

She looks away. "It was…not what I expected," her faceplate heats in embarrassment. I knew that none of the team saw me as much of a listener as they had Optimus but I needed to know how my team was being treated. "She wasn't gentle but she wasn't vicious either. I don't know…it's just all so confusing. I should hate her because she killed my partner but…"

I squeeze her shoulder gently. "Everyone deserves a second chance," I whisper, shocking the femme. She looked at me in stunned silence. "Like it or not, we're stuck but it doesn't have to be the end of the world, Arcee. Give her a chance, we've killed just as many Decepticons as they have Autobots. That's what war does to people." She mulled over my words as I laid her back to do her check-up. Her valve wasn't even raw; honestly, it looked like she hadn't interfaced at all! I'd have to ask Arachnia how she managed that later on. Sitting her up, I looked into her optics. "Did you spark-bond last night?"

I'm not sure what made me ask but I had this suspicion that her confusion was coming from more than just interfacing. Her faceplate flushed with heat but she nodded her helm, ashamed. "I don't know what came over me, Ratchet," she admits, clenching the edge of the berth with her servos. "I just…she's a Decepticon; I shouldn't have…"

"It's okay, Arcee," I cut her rant off. "Rivalry and competition can be a nice start for passion. Now, I need to check the integrity of your spark so if you'd open your chamber." She nods her helm and I hear the latches click before her spark chamber opens to show me her bright soul. "Looks good…" I mutter before I notice something strange. Getting closer, I see the smallest hint of another light attached to the two-wheeler's spark. "Arcee…you're carrying!"

She jumps and looks down, staring in awe at the small spark growing around her energy. "I'm…I'm carrying," she whispers in a mixture of trepidation and wonder. "I have to tell Arachnia."

Her spark chamber closes and I am not surprised when the door opens to show a curious Arachnia. With a spark-bond, it was almost like sharing your thoughts and feelings with your partner. Arachnia and Arcee were connected in a way that couldn't be more intimate. I pushed my small ounce of jealousy away; I kept reminding myself that he wasn't even ready to interface yet.

"Congratulations, Arachnia," I say with a smile. "Arcee is carrying."

She stares at me with a slack jaw before she looks at her bond-mate in a mixture of emotions that are hard for me to decipher. I could almost hear their whispered conversation through their bond before that confident smirk crosses Arachnia's faceplate. "I _had_ hoped to get a bit more practice in," she teases and I'm shocked to hear Arcee chuckle lightly. I decided they needed a little bit of time to themselves so I left the room, closing the door behind me.

Maybe this could work.

I couldn't help but feel a hope start to settle in my spark. I wish Optimus hadn't been sacrificed to get this far and I missed him deeply but if this worked…It could work. We might just be able to reconcile the fact that we fought a war until near extinction. Our planet was destroyed in the process but at least we could go back to it whenever the core stored enough energy to support itself and life once again.

There was a huge fuss in the med-bay when the two came back out as the Bearers and Sires congratulated the two Creators-to-be. I was happy, honestly, but as I checked my internal clock, I couldn't help but want to spend time with my own Bearer. With a smile, I connect my comm.-link to Soundwave's. _"Arcee is carrying,"_ I tell him.

His response is delayed and I knew that he was thinking about something without even looking at him. He could do several things at once, he didn't need that long to construct a simple reply. _"That was the objective,"_ he answers flatly. Even through his monotone I can hear the soft hint of jealousy.

"_Soundwave,"_ I chuckle softly. _"We will get there when _you_ are ready. Not a second before."_ I watched the Bearers and their Sires interact with each other, doting on the carrying femme. It didn't surprise me that Arcee was the first to get sparked-up; femmes were easier to spark than Bearers. Besides, none of the mech pairings had spark-bonded yet. The fact that Arcee was already spark-bonded with Arachnia was unsettling but I was glad she was coming to terms with his new way of life.

"_Confirmation needed,"_ he hesitates, the monotone wavering with some emotion.

"_Anything,"_ I answer with a smile.

His message delays for a few moments. _"Objective: Create sparkling with Soundwave?"_ he asks slowly.

I read between the lines of his formal speech patterns. _"I want to have sparklings with you, Soundwave," _I ease his doubts and I wasn't just saying that. I watched as Arcee and Arachnia grew accustomed to their new relationship and I realized that I wanted to create life with Soundwave. I wanted to see his abdomen grow large to accommodate the protoform; I wanted to open his spark chamber to stare at the small light orbiting his soul.

"_Objective: Create sparkling with Ratchet,"_ he returns, cutting the comm.-link off. It was as close as I'd get to him admitting he felt the exact same that I did about him.

To add a wrench to the workings, later on that day a whole new ship of Decepticons landed on Earth. Among them was Hook, another medic and the only surviving member of his gestalt; Thundercraker, Skywarp and Slipstream a trine of seekers; Blitzwing a triplecharger; Swindle, a complete conman without a spark; and Shockwave, one of the most powerful assassins in Cybertronian history.

Hook wasn't a mech that I usually enjoyed being around but I would have to deal with it and honestly, after a mere hour of being near him…I decided I liked Knockout better. He was a complainer and there wasn't a word that came out of his mouth that wasn't whiny. At the moment, we were arguing about roles in the med-bay. I, of course, was the senior medic on the Nemesis but I was also an Autobot 'captive' so he thought that he should have CMO status. I couldn't care less but Knockout was adamant that I should take that title.

"I'm a Decepticon!" Hook shouts at the red grounder furiously. "He's a fragged Autobot! I should be the CMO!"

Knockout crosses his arms over his spark-chamber, sneering at the young gestalt member. "Yes, but Ratchet has centuries of experience more than you," he fights his case, gesturing with his finely manicured servo. "He's the most capable and he won't mutiny us because of his precious Soundwave."

Hook's faceplate went warm. "He's…Soundwave's partner?" he asks, looking a little sick as his face scrunched in fear. Was Soundwave really that scary?

"What is going on in here?" we jump as Megatron's bass vocalizer sounds from the door. I look over at the monstrous leader as he seems to make the vast med-bay seem tiny with his hulking mass. Soundwave was right behind him, just as I knew he would be. He must have been watching the whole thing from his computer.

Hook seems like he's about to leak some transmission fluid but I stand up from my chair to approach the giant mech. "Hook believes that it is unwise for me to be Commanding Medical Officer because I am an Autobot," I explain, putting it in simple terms. It was ultimately up to the Decepticon leader.

Megatron looks from me to the other medics before sighing. "Ratchet is the senior medic on this ship so he will take the position of CMO," he finalizes easily before turning away. "If you wish to make a complaint, Hook, please speak with Shockwave. Soundwave, fill Ratchet in on his new assignment and help him the rest of the day."

I couldn't help it when my spark flipped at those last few words. Soundwave merely nodded his helm as the leader exited the room quickly. _"New objective: Complete check-ups for arrivals,"_ he sends me over our comm.-link.

"Well, send them here," I say out loud to the silent mech, surprising everyone in the room. "I'll start with Hook." Hook watches me suspiciously as I search for the tools I'll need for the procedure. I didn't know Hook's orientation. "I need to give you a check-up to make sure everything is functioning. Are you a Sire or a Bearer?"

Hook flushes in embarrassment at the question. "I'm a Bearer," he states, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "And I don't need a check-up."

"Oh so you can do your own check-ups?" I ask, placing my servo on my hip. He fidgets in his spot just before Knockout pushes him towards the backroom with the roll of his optics. "Why don't you do the preliminary questions? Here." I pull out my data pad and pull up the format that I created for new patients. "Just have them fill this out when they walk in. You don't even have to talk to them."

He took the datapad and looked over the questions before nodding his head. _"Shockwave is in transit,"_ he tells me through our link as he sets the pad down to the side.

With a smile, I lean forward and kiss the side of his mask gently. "Thank you, I'm glad for the help," I say before disappearing into the backroom, leaving the shocked Third. "Alright, Hook, let's get this over with."

One femme, two Bearers and four Sires later, I had a good running list of the generals in the Decepticon faction. I wasn't sure how we were going to pair them up when we had more Sires than Bearers. It seemed to be a common occurrence for there to be more Sires in the Decepticon faction and more Bearers with the Autobots. Megatron was sending out more invitations for the remaining generals to come to Earth but I had a sneaking suspicion that it would only make the situation even more lopsided.

I was doing the math in my head alone in the med-bay when I felt two long arms wrap around my shoulders. My tension slipped from my shoulders as Soundwave took the datapad from my fingers and set it aside. "Objective completed," he whispers into my audio receptor softly. "Time for recharge."

I smile before standing up, stretching out my spinal struts out with a deep sigh of content. "Are we actually going to get recharge?" I question teasingly, watching his mask as if I could see his emotions.

He stays silent for a few moments before he steps forward. "Shockwave propositioned me today," he says suddenly, flooring me with his change in speech pattern. It wasn't about objectives and confirmations; it was just straightforward comment with emotion in his voice. It was gorgeous.

"He…what?" I whisper.

Touching my servo, Soundwave tilts his mask to the side. "He…offered to be my Sire," he elaborates hesitantly.

A few things happen at once, my spark drops in fear and a deep anger wells up like energon from a cut. "What did you tell him?" I dread the answer for some strange reason. We had only been…together for two days and I had already grown quite an attachment to the Third.

He squeezes my servo gently. "I told him I'd think on it but…" he pauses before he reaches up to take his mask off. He set it down on the table next to us, looking up at me with those beautiful optics. "It's up to you. You were forced into this relationship…if you want to choose someone else, then that's up to you."

I gawked at him in complete shock. "You think I don't want to be with you?" I ask, in disbelief. "Do you think that I'd interface with just anyone?"

His faceplate twists in thought before he lowers his optics. "I just thought…you did it to see your human friends," he finally admits easing some of my anger. This was probably a very strange relationship for him and even though he was a great spy and communication specialist, he was naïve in matters of the spark. Pit, I wasn't even sure I was well versed in matters of the spark!

My smile goes soft. "At first, it was about seeing my friends but now…" I use my finger to tilt his helm up so that I can look into his optics. "I'll admit, I didn't expect to grow so close to you so quickly but…I want you to be my Bearer, Soundwave, but it's ultimately up to you."

His faceplate clears of doubt. "I want you to be my Sire," he states confidently, leaning up to kiss my lips lightly. I press closer, enjoying the contact, pulling him into my form by his hip so that our chests were flush against one another. His arms wrapp around my neck, leaning into the contact as if he didn't have an aversion to it.

I pull away after a few moments to stare at him with a smile. "Come on, let's go recharge," I offer, taking his mask to offer it up. He puts it back on before we exit the med-bay together.

* * *

><p><strong>To Be Continued...<strong>


	5. Sparkling Treatise: Part Three

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH

Warnings: Smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

* * *

><p><strong><span>Sparkling Treatise<span>**  
><em>Part Three<em>

Waking up from recharge used to be something that I looked forward to because of the family I woke up to. Now, as my systems rebooted, I had to remember that the only Creator figure I ever had was gone. I had to run through the battle that lost us the war and ended us up as captives of the Decepticon faction. I had to face that fact that my team was split up into forced bondings. Then, I had to come to the realization that most of my team actually enjoyed their partners. Arcee and Arachnia were still getting used to their relationship but at least Arachnia respected the two-wheeler as her Bearer.

I lay there on the berth staring up at the ceiling of the unfamiliar room for a long while before I realize that Knockout isn't next to me. It should have been the first thing I noticed because he was usually clinging to me in the night while we recharged. Actually, his wandering servos were what usually woke me up. My faceplate warmed in embarrassment as I turned over on my side to curl up and enjoy the peace.

Maybe, he'd let me stay in the room and just recharge. I honestly haven't had the motivation to do anything since Optimus' death. The memory of his lifeless form still haunted my processor when I wasn't distracting myself with work. I just wanted to wallow in my self-pity for a day, just a day. For twenty four hours, I wanted to be alone and run through all of the memories I had of Optimus. It was still hard to grasp the fact that I would never hear his comforting voice, feel his servo on my shoulder when I was frustrated, or watch his faceplate melt into a smile filled with so much pride when I triumphed.

I couldn't understand how Ratchet could be so calm and willing through this whole ordeal. My processor demanded that I fight to get back the Matrix but Ratchet had already taken the CMO position when Megatron offered it up. That meant that this was a long-term settlement. What would Optimus what me to do? I couldn't think like him. I wanted to…I just couldn't seem to think in a way that was typical of a leader.

In the middle of my thoughts, the door swished open softly. I heard the now familiar steps of my Sire before he slipped up behind me to press his spark-chamber to my back. He didn't say anything and I wondered idly where he had been so early; he wasn't scheduled for med-bay duty today. With three mechs working in the med-bay, they each had fair hours and because there were more servos to help out, the generals got some time with their Bearers or Sires.

Knockout shifts and I feel his lips brush the back of my shoulder gently, almost sweetly. "You're awfully quiet this morning," he comments in that sultry, always suggestive voice. I merely shrug my shoulder half-heartedly. My patience was used up and I was tired. "Come on, get up. I have a surprise for you."

I sigh deeply but refuse to move. "I'm too tired," I lie, wrapping my arms around myself.

His noise stops. "You okay, Bug?" he asks and it would sound like concern if he were capable of that emotion.

My body tenses at the insulting nickname he had given me. "Don't call me that!" I nearly shout as I flip over to glare at the red 'con harshly. His optics widen in shock at my outburst; this was the first time I had raised my vocals at him since we started this forced courtship and it felt so good. "Will you just leave me alone?"

He blinks his optics in confusion. Was he that dumb? Then, something closer to concern starts to blossom in his faceplate before he hides it. "Like it or not, Bug, I'm your Sire," he laces his arms across his chest and cocks his hips defiantly. "Would it kill you to trust me every once and a while?"

"Trust?" I shriek indignantly like a small sparkling. "You raped me! How can I trust you after that?" If he wanted the truth, I was going to let him have it. I was tired of being treated like a sparkling and I would get the respect I deserved.

Knockout sneered darkly, an expression I was quite familiar with these days. "As I recall, you were the one that begged for it," he points out, making my spark clench in disgust. I would _not _be made to feel like the whore in this situation.

"After you pinned me down and tortured me until I would say anything!" I snarl at him, getting off of the berth so that I can stand up to him both literally and figuratively. His optics were wide with disbelief but I couldn't tell if it was because of what I was accusing him of or because I was in his faceplate.

He's silent for a few seconds, contemplating something. "That's not how I meant it at all," he finally whispers, his right optic twitching in what I recognized as a nervous tick.

I felt anger become a wave at his reaction. "What did you mean it as then? Foreplay?" I ask, shoving at his spark-chamber. He steps back, still staring at me as if he were trying to figure out what he had done wrong. "Just…leave me alone." I turn away, apathetic to whether he would retaliate or not.

My shoulders slumped when I heard the door open and close behind me.

* * *

><p>My processor was whirling with what Bumblebee had said and honestly, I was very confused. He had enjoyed the interface, I know he had but…he still called it rape? What could I say to him after all of that? I had no clue what to think or do so I went to the only mech that could help.<p>

"Ratchet," I call as I walk into the med-bay. He was on duty today, thankfully, with a datapad in his servo. His optics glanced up from the datapad uninterested. "I…ah….need to talk with you."

His optics reflected his understanding. The damn medic already knew what I was here for without any prompting. "Alright," he states, gesturing for me to follow him into the small office of the darkly colored med-bay. He doesn't sit down behind the desk though; instead, he pulls the chair around so that when I sit, we are facing each other. "Trouble in paradise?"

I frown at his unnecessary humor. "It's not funny!" I snap without meaning to. Ratchet quirks an optic ridge at me as if to say 'well?' so I take that as a hint to go on. "He claims that I raped him."

Ratchet nods his helm. "Well, from how he tells it, you did," he replies without missing a beat.

"I didn't rape him! He enjoyed it, begged for it!" I insist, sounding desperate even to my audio receptors. Rachet merely watched me from his seat on the chair, looking all the more like a doctor of the processor than one of the body.

He was quiet for a few moments before finally speaking up. "Knockout, how many partners have you had in your function?"

Needless to say, the question left me speechless, which was quite the accomplishment. "What?" I can only think to ask.

He chuckles lightly. "How many partners?" I count through them in my processor but he interrupts me. "Any of them possible bond-partners?"

"No."

He nods his helm again. "Bumblebee isn't just a one cycle frag, Knockout," he points out slowly.

I bristle indignantly. "I never said he was," I shoot back. Sure, when Megatron had first revealed his plans, I only thought about using him for a good frag but…something changed. I guess it was sleeping with him pressed to the curve of my body after our first night together. It sounded completely sappy but I couldn't help but watch him recharge and thought how handsome he was. Sure, I had had my fair share of gorgeous mechs and lovely femmes but Bumblebee was different somehow. It had been almost a week since we had been 'partners' and I still had yet to even offer up my spark. He wasn't ready for it and…neither was I, to be completely blunt.

Did I even want sparklings? Did _he_ want to carry _my_ sparklings? These were all questions that I had pondered since our forced courtship. I thought it would be easy but that first time was the only time we had actually interfaced. Every other time was a little valve-play but he hadn't seemed receptive so I backed off. I thought he just needed time but…now…

Ratchet smiles softly. "I'm not saying that you see him that way, Knockout. I'm saying that's what he feels like," he explains and I feel my spark drop. "Pinning down and torturing an overload out of a partner is all well and good, Knockout. Pit, I've done it with Soundwave but he is well aware of where we stand. He's my Bearer and I'm his Sire. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

My processor quickly runs over the information he is telling me (decidedly skipping over the mental image that was conjured of Ratchet and Soundwave together). "You're saying that he's…confused about how I feel," I say for confirmation. His look is all the validation I need. "Slag, I'm an idiot."

He chuckles lightly, standing up to place a servo on my shoulder. "Get to know him, Knockout. You'll find that, even as a highly trained warrior, he's rather insecure in some aspects of life. He needs someone to be sensitive and sympathetic to his doubts and needs," he tries to clarify for me as gently as possible. "Let him make the first move. Do something that _he_ would enjoy and just listen. He's in a lot of emotional trauma right now because of the loss of the one mech he looked up to the most."

I feel my spark sink as realization dawned on me. His sudden mood swings, the way he locked up whenever I was near him, and the depression this morning, suddenly made sense. I was a piece of scrap for not realizing it sooner. The defeat of his faction meant nothing to me but I never thought about how Optimus' death might effect the youngest member of their team. Suddenly, _I_ felt like the sparkling.

He must have seen my sudden realization because he squeezed my shoulder briefly. "This is new for us all, Knockout, and the death of our Prime hit us all very hard but not as hard as it hit Bumblebee," he smiles sadly. I could see how much he missed the Prime and it hurt to think that I had missed it in…my Bearer.

My Bearer…Bumblebee was _my_ Bearer.

"Scrap," I mutter, staring at the ground for a few moments. "I'm a piece of slag, aren't I?"

Ratchet laughs before patting my shoulder and walking to the door. "At least you realized it. Better late than never," he reassures me lightly. "It's not too late to start the relationship over. We're all adjusting to this new way of life but I'd rather compromise than continue to fight."

I smirk. "Ready to settle down, old model?" I tease making him laugh. It was a strange sound that I wasn't used to hearing from the medic. He was usually so crabby that sometimes I forgot he had a sense of humor. It was dry and very morbid but I could see why Megatron would pair him with the quiet, reclusive Third. They were complete opposites and balanced each other out.

"Yeah, just don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold. Now get out of here and fix the mess you made," he taunts, holding the door so that I can walk out.

I pause at the outer door of the med-bay, turning to look at the old doc-bot. "Ratchet," I say softly. He turns to look at me, curious. "Thanks." The door opens as I turn around and I nearly run straight into Soundwave. The Third takes a step back to dodge me but I just smirk at him. He merely stares at me through the mask before stepping to the side for me. My optics widen at the unfamiliar gesture and I can't help but smile. "Thank you."

They were definitely good for each other.

I get back to my-our berthroom and hear the water going in my private racks and take that as a good sign. My first instinct was to go join him but I hesitated. No, I'd let him wash up alone then coax him into an outing with me. My surprise had been permission from Megatron to take the Bug-Bumblebee, out for a drive.

Now, I just needed to figure out how to apologize. I wasn't very good at it. I hadn't had to apologize to anyone in a very long time and I had a problem of making everything I said sound like sarcasm. Maybe I just needed to tell him he was right and that I had been a piece of slag. Primus that sounded…dumb and cliché.

I was still running my processor when the water turned off and Bumblebee stepped out of the racks. His optics widened when he saw me as I stood from the chair. I saw him mentally shut down in one second. "Wait," I say before he can try and go back into the racks. "Just…hear me out."

He halts right in the doorway, his back to me, but he doesn't move other than that.

Taking that as a go, I take a slow breath. "You were right," I blurt a little less than elegantly. That catches his attention and he finally turns to look at me, his optics full of alert attention. Thank Primus, he was willing to listen. "I have completely fragged this up. I know you don't trust me and…I understand why but…let me make it up to you."

Primus, that sounded cheesy and really inane.

His bright blue optics narrowed in skepticism but I could see him thinking about it. His new faceplate, complete with working mouth and lips, thinned in thought and I couldn't help but think it was an adorable expression. "How?" he finally asks, surrendering, for now.

I feel some of the tension leave my form in relief. "I thought we could go racing," I offer up.

The reaction was instantaneous. His faceplate lit up with excitement and I could tell that he was already warming up to me. "Really?" he asks, obviously very ecstatic. Seeing that reaction pointed at something I did was…intoxicating. I suddenly realized that I wanted to see it again…that I would do _anything_ to accomplish this.

"Yes, come on, I'll have a ground-bridge opened for us. You have a preference?" I ask, gesturing for him to follow me out of the room. He rushes forward, catching up to walk beside me, and he truly was beside me now. I could see that he wasn't shutting down, he was actively here in the real world.

I could see the cogs turning in his processor as he tried to decide. "There's this really pretty parkway out in North Carolina," he offers up, looking a little hesitant, almost shy.

"Curvy?" He nods. "Dangerous?" He nods again. "Sounds fun."

His enthusiasm was palpable as we walked down the hallway towards the ground-bridge. He was so young. He probably hadn't known anything but war, too. This was new for him. I had been created before the war started and had gone through Med School just as Ratchet had but I was from Kaon. My Creators somehow managed to get me into a type of boarding school so that I didn't get sent into the Gladiator Pits to become a fighter like my brothers. I had known what it was like to grow up in a peaceful time, Bumblebee hadn't.

* * *

><p>We had our wheels on the road in no time and I couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have the light bit of sunny, spring rain running across my frame as I drifted around the empty streets of the parkway. It was a beautiful time of year when all of the trees were blossoming in preparation for taking on leaves and there were thousands of different flowers everywhere. The grass was lush and healthy as the moisture glistened on the blades in the soft sunlight.<p>

The pavement was wet enough to make drifting easy but not soaked so that I slipped around dangerously. Knockout was a little more reckless than me as he dodged in and out of the sparse traffic that we would occasionally pass as we drove. He always stayed within a comfortable distance so that I never lost track of his blood red and chrome body. It was nice having someone that could keep up with me on the roads as we raced down the curving roads at inhuman speeds.

It wasn't long before Knockout flashed his break lights at me before proceeding to pull off on a dirt road. I followed suit, finding the road lined with beautiful trees that were all beautiful colors of pink and white. He slowed down until we came to an open clearing where he pulled over into the wet grass. Parking beside him, we transformed at the same time, standing tall over the trees before I sat down on the damp ground. It was nice not having to hide anymore…

Knockout sat at a comfortable distance from me but still close enough so that I could hear his engine purring as it cooled down. The soothing sounds of birds and wildlife slowly picked back up as it became accustomed to our presence. I let myself lie back with my servos behind my helm, enjoying the soft drizzle of rain on my faceplate, warm from exercise.

I couldn't quite read him since he came back from…wherever. He left for less than an hour after arguing with me and instead of continuing the argument…he apologized in the only way he knew how. It was strange. It made me uncomfortable from confusion. What had changed his mind? I wanted to ask but I was afraid. What if it was an answer I didn't want to hear?

"If it means anything," he starts out of the blue. "I'm glad I got you."

I hear the honesty and the slight humor behind it even as I smiled. "What, you didn't want Bulkhead?" I tease, hearing his chuckle that was, just like everything else he did, sultry and full of quiet promises.

He turns on his side, propping his helm up on his well-tended-to servo. "Can you imagine me trying to interface that lug?" he questions incredulously.

My faceplate twists into a wince at the mental image that pops into my processor. "Ew, let's never speak of _that_ again," I laugh with him, the sound filling the clearing easily. It was a beautiful sound as our voices melded to create a beautiful harmony that resonated in my audio receptors.

We are silent for a few moments before his sonorous voice fills the clearing again. "I never meant to make you feel…used," he stumbles over the words, staring up at the sky instead of at me. I watch his faceplate, surprised. "I treated you like a whore instead of what you are…my Bearer. So, are you willing to start over? Give me another chance?"

My mind went to the first night and I _had _overloaded several times. But, I had felt used and that was what ruined it. His admission of this made me smile softly. Did I want to give him a chance? Did I enjoy the thought of having a Decepticon as my Sire? He wasn't ugly, by any means; he was a very handsome mech. He had some growing to do as far as relationships went but then again, so did I. Would it work? Did I want to find out?

"I don't know what I want," I admit openly, supposing that the best approach was honesty. He looks at me without judgment and I relax. "Whenever I had a problem I'd go to…"

"Optimus," he fills in as I falter. He scoots just a little closer, not so much that I would shy away but just enough to let me feel the heat radiating off of his form. "Go on."

Did he really want to know? I couldn't imagine that he could be at all interested but his optics stayed open and without ridicule. "Yeah," I breathe, feeling the sadness return to my spark as I thought of my hero. "It's hard to believe that he's…dead. I just keep expecting him to walk back into my life like he never left then I remember what his body looked like when…" Oh Primus, I missed him. It hurt so much to remember his wise, smiling faceplate and know that I'd never see it ever again.

Knockout's faceplate was filled with sympathy and I was shaken by it. My spark eased and I could hear Optimus' voice in my processor preaching about second chances and the good in every spark. It was sad that Optimus had to die to see the end of the war but…maybe we could make this work out for the better. Just because the Decepticons had won didn't mean I had to give up my ideals. I was still an Autobot and Optimus would never leave my spark.

"Thanks…for listening," I hesitate before inching closer to kiss his cheek lightly. He smiles, not his usual smirk, a smile. It was…different but beautiful on his elegant, aristocratic faceplate.

He leans closer, wrapping an arm around my waist slowly. "You're welcome...now," he goes back to that wolfish grin he was famous for. "How about a _real_ kiss?"

I laugh at his teasing tone and push on his chest. "Don't press your luck."

* * *

><p>"What am I going to do with the two of you!" I shout at the two mechs standing in my med-bay. They were probably twice my size, each, and they had their helms pointed down at the floor in embarrassment. They were both covered in dents and scratches and paint transfer from helm to pedes for the second time that week! "Can't you two frag like the rest of us: Gently?"<p>

Bulkhead rubs the back of his helm, obviously looking more dejected than his Sire, as he fidgets. "We were sparring, not interfacing," he half lies.

I cross my arms over my chest with a glare that could melt paint. "Yeah, those paint transfers on your pelvic plating are from a healthy, friendly spar," I say sarcastically, watching as the ex-Wrecker's faceplate heats slightly.

I wasn't really mad at them for interfacing, actually, I thought their relationship was going better than any of the others at this point. They were more alike then they gave each other credit for. Both had the mentality of a Wrecker but Bulkhead was a little more gentle than Breakdown who was definitely a physical match for the tank but fiercely dedicated and loyal. They still had that rivalry going on but they always seemed to make up after their arguments, which were usually simple anyways.

I was frustrated because they kept coming into the med-bay with new dents every day! _That's_ what I was frustrated about! My day couldn't be taken up by their constant repairs, which were all aesthetic anyways. I was tempted just to let them walk around like that for a while. It would teach them to frag while they fought.

The door opens as I am about yell again to show Hook who was coming in to take over. "Oh good!" my tone changes completely. "Hook, I wasn't able to get to their repair, would you mind?" He looks up from the datapad in his servo in just enough time to see me walk out the door with a quick thanks.

Making myself scarce before Hook could yell at me, I walked straight into the main bridge where I knew Soundwave would be. Megatron was out with Starscream as they scouted for more energon reserves and I knew Shockwave would be taking over my Bearer's position soon. And there he was with his back to me, standing at the console. I smiled softly as he typed away. He knew I was there, he was just ignoring me while he did his work; I was used to it by now.

"Soundwave," I groan playfully, throwing my arms around his waist to lean on him heavily. He was stronger than he looked and took the brunt of my weight without moving; his servos continuing their typing without a twitch. "Are you done yet?"

"Negative," is all he responds even as I huff against his audio receptor. "Time remaining: Twenty minutes, six seconds."

I smile at that formal way of speaking he always used while on the clock. It was only when he was officially off duty that he allowed himself to talk like a normal mech. Then again, he never really spoke to anyone but Megatron and myself. "You work too hard," I whisper, running my glossa across his neck cables slowly.

That made his fingers falter on the keys. A shudder slipped across his sleek form but he tried to continue ignoring me. He wasn't going to win this game…we both knew this. I ran my fingers across his chest plating, down, down…dipping into seams to make his vents hitch. Finally, I was tracing the outline of his interface panel. He ultimately releases his held in moan and his panel clicks open as I nip at his neck cables.

Shifting slightly, I wrap my servo around his pressurized spike, pumping it languidly as his servos plant on the console in front of him. His hips bucked into my servo desperately while my other servo ran down his back. He gasps when he feels my fingers playing with his valve. "R-Ratchet," his sonorous voice whispers in a wanton urgency that has my own fans kicking on.

Jerking my servo to a quicker pace, I slip a finger into his slick valve causing him to throw his helm back in a frenzied pleasure. It had been nearly a week since the two of us had become partners and this was as far as we had gotten. It wasn't like I never got any relief out of the relationship. We made due with Soundwave's limitations and I couldn't have been happier with the courtship. Every day, he made greater strides. He was confident enough to touch my spike now and he had also started exploring my form to find my sweet spots. We were making strides, small ones, but every step was progress.

He pressed back into my servo as I slipped a second finger into his valve, stretching his tight valve. I thrust my fingers into him harder, digging down all the way to the knuckle joint. Every node was found by the sensitive pads of my fingers while my other servo kept pace on his spike drawing him ever closer to overload. He was begging for overload by the time I pressed a third finger into him and it didn't take a thrust or two before he was arching his back and screaming my name in pleasure.

His panted breath was music to my receptors as I slipped my fingers out of his soaked valve. I opened my subspace wirelessly and took out a rag to wipe my servos off. Chuckling, I had to wipe down the base of the console as well. "Well, we made a mess."

Subspacing the rag, I straightened up just to be pushed back against the console by Soundwave's long arms. My face contorted in surprise as he leans forward to press his servo against my interface panel. "You did overload," he states the obvious, abandoning his business-like way of speaking.

I shrug my shoulders idly. "It's okay, I can wait another seven minutes," I say with a smile, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

He dodges me playfully but doesn't ease up on my panel. Instead, he traces the seams slowly, setting my body on fire with pleasure. "Let me," he whispers before he is crouching down in front of me.

My spark flips in pure, animalistic pleasure at seeing him crouched in front of my closed panel just as he reaches up to take his mask off. His faceplate leans forward to run a slick glossa over my panel. It was so unexpected I can't hold back the groan that slips from my vocals. "Soundwave," I pant as my panel opens of its own accord. "You don't have to-ah!"

My words cut off when his glossa runs up the underside of my pressurized spike, swirling around that bundle of nodes at the base of the tip. Someone had been paying attention when I did this. I should have known he was observing the logistics before he tried it out. Surprisingly, it was well worth the wait as his lips wrapped around my tip to suck gently. My servos grabbed for purchase behind me on the console and I had to remind myself not to dent the precious computer.

His lithe fingers wrapped around the base of my spike to stroke its length as he grew accustomed to the motion. I wasn't sure how I could stand when I couldn't feel my legs as his warm mouth created such distracting suction while his servo pumped my length. Honestly, if I didn't know better, I would say he had done this before.

I felt my hips jerk just slightly when he dipped lower on my length and pulled away, slowly. Oh Primus, where had this been? He was creating just the right amount of suction and where I should have been fearful of his sharpened denta, I hadn't felt a graze of them so far. I had complete trust in the logic-driven 'con.

He sped up his pace and I gasped as his servo stroked in contrary motion to his mouth, driving me insane. I felt my overload gathering in the pit of my engine; my servo reached forward to rest on his helm. "S-Soundwave, I'm gonna-" I couldn't get the words out as he did something I hadn't thought of. He took my spike into his mouth a little deeper and hummed a low pitch deep in his throat. It vibrated through his mouth and I couldn't hold my overload as I spilled my transfluid into my lover's mouth. I looked down to see him pull away and glance up at me. "That was…amazing. Where'd you learn to do that?" I laugh lightly as he stands straight.

"You and the internet," he answers with a smile as I lean forward to kiss him. I can taste myself on his glossa and it is an intoxicating mix with his natural taste. "It was…satisfactory?"

I saw his doubt and wrapped my arms around him to nuzzle his neck. "I just told you it was amazing!" I laugh, kissing his neck cables tenderly. "Primus, I didn't expect that at all!"

He laughs with me. "Me neither," he whispers just as the door opens behind us. Soundwave jolts and reaches to grab his mask as quickly as he can. I look over his shoulder at the large assassin that walked through the doorway. Shockwave had backed off after Soundwave broke the news to the larger mech. He was a little strange and creepy sometimes but he wasn't as obnoxious as some of the others.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he smirks as I step away from my Bearer.

"No, I was just picking up my Bearer," I smile as we walk past the assassin to head towards the door. He gave me the creeps when he gave that 'I know something I shouldn't' smirk. "Good night, Shockwave."

"Good night," he responds before the door shuts behind us.

Taking my Bearer's servo I lead us to our berthroom. It took three days before he would allow me to touch him in front of other soldiers. When he finally realized that they didn't look down on him for holding my servo, he gladly started doing it. It was silly and a little childish but I found it pleasing to be able to show my affection for the silent mech to others. Call me possessive but he made me happy.

"Ratchet," Soundwave spoke up when the door closed behind us to the berthroom. I perked and looked back at him as I had started forward to get the things for our shower. We usually did minor maintenance on each other in the wash racks, such as polishing or waxing. The fact that he was deviating from his normal schedule was odd. Turning to look at him, I saw he had already taken off his mask and was staring at me with a determined look in his optics. "I am ready."

I felt my spark freeze in its chamber. "Ready for…what, exactly?" I asked, needing confirmation that we were talking about the same thing. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my neck.

"I'm ready to interface with you."

* * *

><p><strong><span>To Be Continued...<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks to all of those who have reviewed this set of stories! I honestly did not want this to go on this long! XD It was supposed to be a short story and that's it!

A suggestion was made to make it its own story and I'm thinking on it but I'm not sure as of right now. If I do that, I might just finish it here and transfer it over but we'll see!

I added in some of Bumblebee and Knockout's story because Pandablubb asked for me to go into the other pairings, which I will be doing in the last few parts. I'm not sure how long this one will last but we'll see where it goes

Again, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

Reviews are always welcome and appreciated!

*I'm going to be doing the next story after this but I don't know what pairing I want to do! It, of course, has to be Ratchet based but if you have a preference, shoot me a message or just put it in a review!*


	6. Sparkling Treatise: Part Four

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH

Warnings: Smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

* * *

><p>I'm pretty sure my spark actually stopped.<p>

Six little words and my spark actually stopped beating. I stood there like an idiot too, staring at the Third like someone with half a processor. He waited patiently though, allowing me to run through everything that was clogging my processors all to the Pit and back. And even after that, all I managed was an elegant, "Come again?"

He was confident though as he pressed his body more firmly to mine. "I'm ready," he repeats, letting his vocals dig deep to a range that was husky and all-too sexy.

"A-Are you sure?" I couldn't help but ask, wrapping my arms around his waist to return the embrace.

He hesitates a little, his faceplate showing some doubt slipping in. "You…don't want to?" he whispers in a small voice.

"No! Primus, no!" I gasp, pulling him back when he tried to move away. "I was just making sure that you are ready because I can wait. I don't want you to do this because you feel rushed." I was babbling and he knew it because he smiled knowingly.

His lips met mine in a sweet, intimate kiss that I got lost in. He was getting good at that. Long fingers ran across the back of my helm, pulling me deeper into the kiss, if that were at all possible. His confidence, I am very willing to admit, was extremely arousing and it already had my engine humming in appreciation.

Using my servos to grip his hips, I tugged him backwards with me until I felt the berth. I brought him down onto my lap so that I could lap at his neck cables. His moan was music and set my internals on fire. My interface panel was already getting ready for the next round. Good, I still had a good bit of age on the Third and was momentarily afraid I wouldn't be able to perform this soon.

His fingers dipped into the seams of my spark chamber so suddenly I wasn't ready for it. My gasp made his engine purr sweetly against my chest sending vibrations through the both of us. Never, in my entire function, had I been so intimate with someone. Sure, I had interfaced with plenty of mechs and femmes in my function but I couldn't recall it ever being this…satisfying. It was probably because I knew that this mech would be carrying our sparkling someday, hopefully.

Plus, Soundwave was quiet among his peers but like…_this_ with me. Sure, he had started out as the quiet, meek communications officer (didn't know you could be quiet and still be a _communications_ officer) but now…as his confidence started to grow, he was giving me just as much pleasure as I gave him. He wasn't afraid to try new things as long as there was good feedback. He learnt quick and was a great observer.

To add to that, he had talented fingers that could fit into seams I didn't even know I had! His glossa was exploring my neck cables and I couldn't help but lean back to enjoy the appreciation for a few moments. Bold and without any lingering doubts, he was like a stronghold of sex appeal. Primus, he was beautiful when he took control.

Smiling, I let my fingers drift lightly over his back. He jerks forward against my chest as I found a particularly sensitive spot; he let lose a slow, melodic whimper that nearly had my panel opening on its own. I trailed my fingers down to his aft, gripping and jerking him forward so that our panels rubbed together. The vibrations made us both moan in a sweet harmony that had me trembling with restrained lust.

"Open for me," I whisper into his receptor, dragging my lips down his jaw. My fingers searched out his equipment eagerly; his valve was already dripping with lubricants and I couldn't help the spark of pleasure that lashed through me. My finger slipped into him smoothly so I just went ahead and added another to fill him better. He was quivering with heat and pleasure as I thrust up into him.

He started to rock against my fingers, igniting my need so badly that my panel _did_ pop open and there was nothing I could do to stop it. His servos plant firmly on my shoulders for leverage; I can't help but watch his body gyrate lasciviously against my fingers. He was absolutely mesmerizing when he let everything go and got lost in the moment.

"I'm ready," he whispers into my receptor, sounding absolutely certain.

I smiled gently, leaning forward to kiss his lips as I pulled my fingers away. With a quick shift, I turned so that I was sitting with my back against the wall. He was still perched on my lap with his servos on my shoulders, looking down at me with those handsome red optics. "Go as slow as you need," I soothe, helping to position my spike at his valve.

His nod was curt and I could feel the tremors running across his body as he pressed down. I couldn't tell if he was nervous or not but his pace was slow as the tip of my spike slipped past his opening. My helm leaned back in utter pleasure as his slick, tight heat wrapped around me. It felt like I had waited years when in reality only a mere week had passed by since we had first been paired together against our will. I couldn't help but think that this was worth centuries of waiting as he moaned at the stretch.

I watched his faceplate contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he started to stretch uncomfortably. "Slow down," I whisper, kissing his neck cables to distract him. "It's going to hurt a bit." He relaxed into my form, tilting his helm to the side to accommodate my searching mouth.

Experimentally, he rolls his hips against my spike and we both gasp as I am driven a little deeper than away. I didn't even have to ask before he was repeating the motion. It was the perfect amount of pressure and release that had me panting into his neck. His hips were moving faster, dragging out another moan from my vocalizer the more of my spike he took in. It was teasing and frustrating but oh-so amazing at the same time.

Once he was almost seated completely, I bucked my hips, catching him off guard. His helm falls back as he releases a surprised noise that sent tingles across my metal. We repeated the motion and I pressed down on his hips to dig deeper. It was a rhythm that he picked up on immediately, jerking his hips against mine to meet my thrusts.

Our bodies were heating rapidly and I couldn't help but regret having overloaded already that day. I wasn't going to last much longer but by the sounds my lover was making, he wasn't either. "Faster," he demands desperately and I could taste the energy of overload crackling across his metal heatedly.

I eagerly obliged him by jerking my hips up while pulling him down, taking complete control. He digs his fingers into my shoulders tightly as I resort to shallow, hard thrusts. His cycling of air was erratic and desperate, then again, so was mine as our overloads started to peak. I shifted my angle just slightly and scored on a bundle of nodes that made him shout as his overload hit him by surprise.

Riveted by the sight of my lover's face twisting with this ultimate pleasure, I was shocked as his valve clenched around my spike to hit me with my own overload. I jerked my hips up one last time, whispering his name like a prayer. Primus, my vision even shorted out for a few seconds as I basked in the bliss of the energy racing through me and the energy that filled Soundwave's valve.

He slumped against my chest, panting to cycle air through his overheated body furiously. I ran my servo gently down his back to soothe him wondering what was going through that wickedly smart processor. His fingers started drawing abstract pictures on my chest as we started to come down from our highs.

"Was that satisfactory?" I couldn't help but ask with a teasing tone.

Sitting up, he looks down at me with the brightest, most beautiful smile I had ever seen on any mech or femme. "That was amazing," he chuckles, leaning down to kiss me slowly. His glossa tasted like electricity and I enjoyed every second of it. "Now, recharge is necessary."

I laugh happily. "What no third go?" I tease, shifting so that I draw a rag out of my sub-space. I quickly clean both of our chests off before moving so that we can lay down.

He nuzzles into my chest, my arm wrapped under to support his helm. "Maybe tomorrow morning," he murmurs thoughtlessly. My body starts winding down for recharge, so we are silent for a few moments before he speaks up. "Ratchet?"

"Hm?" I hum softly.

"Why did we wait this long?" he asks playfully.

I can't help but laugh. "Because, waiting made it better," I admit honestly. I knew that if I had just interfaced with him that first night, he wouldn't have trusted me enough to get into it. He would have been hesitant and the cut in his valve would have just turned it into another story of painful interface. He had to learn to enjoy foreplay before he could learn to anticipate interface.

"Mm, true," he whispers before he is recharging.

Looking down, I smile at the beauty of his purple and black face. How had I gotten so lucky? The fact that this relationship worked out as well as it did was no small miracle. But here I was in a berth with my, once, sworn enemy. It truly gave me a new perspective on the whole war. What would have happened had we met sooner? What would have happened if Optimus hadn't died? These were all things that I thought about as recharge claimed me and I drifted off.

* * *

><p>My internal alarm blared to life way too early the next morning. I winced, turning it off quickly because I didn't have morning duty; it wouldn't kill me to recharge late just this once, right? Well, no but as I slowly started to settle back down for a another hour or so of recharge, I felt Soundwave shift beside me. He never recharged late, ever.<p>

I wrapped my arms tightly around him to stifle his movement. He was trapped between me and the wall so there were very few places he could escape to. "Mm, just a few more minutes," I whisper against his neck.

He freezes but doesn't go back to recharging peacefully. "A washing is necessary," he responds, sounding embarrassed. It takes my foggy, recharge deprived processor a few seconds to get what he is trying to say.

My arms don't let up. "That's what happens when you interface," I mutter playfully, running my fingers across the metal right above his panel.

"It's uncomfortable," he complains with a sigh, trying to get out of my arms.

Running my lips up to brush against his audio receptors, I chuckle darkly. "You'd better get used to it. I plan to fill you with my transfluid quite a bit the rest of our function," I promise, licking his receptor with my glossa.

He bites down on his lower lip with his denta but I can feel the heat coming from his panel. Who knew Soundwave would be into dirty talk? "Wash racks," he insists just as I feel something wrap around my wrists. Looking down, I see the tentacles he usually keeps hidden within his form tugging my arms away.

Shocked as I was, I couldn't protest as he escaped to rush away. "Oh no you don't!" I laugh, jumping up from the bed, recharge forgotten. He tried to close the door on me but I was too fast, even for an old, bulky mech. His laughter was mesmerizing as I grabbed him around his waist to haul him up against my form. My lips clashed with his, stealing his protest right out of his mouth.

He tried to use his tentacles to distract me by running across all of the spots that made me melt. I ignored them for the moment so that I could get Soundwave up against the wall, running my lips down his neck cables. His hips bucked against mine as I pinned his servos to the wall. Tentacles dug into my seams to find my weak spots, causing me to huff hot air against the mech's sensitive neck cables.

We were both panting when one of his jerking tentacles accidentally flipped the water on so that it worked to cool our burning forms. Steam hissed even as I heard our panels click open. Without preamble, I released his wrists to hike his legs up around my waist and jerked my spike into his valve.

His scream was music to my receptors as his heat and tightness wrapped around my spike. Shifting my servos, I found a nice gripping spot on his aft to move his hips. It didn't take him long to melt into the movement, using his tentacles for leverage against the wall. I planted a servo on the wall so that I could thrust into him recklessly.

Even with the freezing water, we both burned until we could barely see each other through the steam. His voice was getting louder the closer he came to his overload and I couldn't help my own moans as his other tentacles dug into places that I didn't even know I had. Our overloads came fast and hard, shocking us both into crying out.

I slouched against his chest in exhaustion as my body came off of its high. The water was doing a lot to cool us down as we relaxed for a moment. Well, I did. "You're killing me," he laughs teasingly as I pull away to turn the heat up on the water. He steps down to his own pedes before looking down at his transfluid being washed away. "That was…"

"Amazing? Fantastic?" I add with a bright chuckle.

He glares at me playfully. "Counterproductive, but whatever helps you recharge."

"Smartaft," I mutter.

We quickly get cleaned and once we were in the room, he grabbed his mask. "I have a gift for you, Ratchet."

Surprised, I look up at him curiously. Gift? That seemed a little random. "Oh yeah?" I smile gently.

Putting his mask on, he gestures for me to follow him out of the room. Curious, I walk up beside him, slipping my servo in his out of habit. His fingers curl around mine without hesitation, warming my spark. He had come so far from the beginning of all this. It gave me a hope so deep that it covered up the hopelessness that I had felt since we got to Earth. The war was over; we could build lives. The only problem with this set up was the position of the Earthlings. I had to do something about that.

He walks straight to the bridge where Megatron, Starscream and Shockwave were standing, conversing in quiet tones. I only got the tail end of the sentence before they stopped to look at us as we walked in. Shockwave's optic went to our servos, instantly, but he didn't betray what he thought. Instead, he put that ugly, twisted smirk on his faceplate.

"Soundwave, I wondered when you'd arrive," Megatron smirks, looking from me to the Third. "I would like to congratulate the both of you for a successful spark-bonding."

Before I could even open my mouth, Soundwave, to my surprise, speaks up. "Negative. Objective: Interface. Objective: Complete. Reward: Visit the Earthlings," he says in his normal formal way of speaking. I couldn't help but flush at the Third's words. He was making good on his promise to allow me the chance to speak with the children.

Megatron smirks darkly. "No, the agreement was the spark-bonding and sparkling conception," he tries to lie.

Yet again, my lover is the first to respond. _"Soundwave is a Bearer and has had limited experience with interfacing…"_ I'm shocked as Megatron's voice comes from Soundwave. Then, even more shocked when my own voice sounds. _"If I do this…I get to see the children?" I ask, keeping my optics away from Soundwave…"_ Then…_"Megatron, sensing my surrender, smirks. "You may, as soon as Soundwave reports back to me of your success."_

Megatron's faceplate shows that he expected as much. "Very well then, you may visit your human children. Soundwave as the coordinates and will chaperone you on a brief visit. Seeing as neither of you have duty today, I will expect you back by sundown," he compromises grudgingly.

"Thank you," I respond, trying to hide the hatred in my voice. Soundwave leads me out of the room and towards the ground bridge. "He's never going to let the Earthlings go, is he?"

My lover's helm shakes slowly, confirming my fears.

Curious, I stopped us in the deserted hallway. "How do you feel about the enslavement?" I ask seriously, holding firm to his servo. His covered face was tilted to the side, staring at the floor somewhere instead of my faceplate. Anxiety slipped its way into my spark; what if he thought it was right?

He was silent for a while before he spoke up. "Ratchet, I honestly don't care about humans," he admits, being completely honest, like always. "I do, however, remember the time before the war when the labor force was enslaved by the upper class."

"When you were in the Pits?" I clarify, watching his body tense.

"Yes," he whispers softly.

He's looking anywhere but my faceplate and I can tell he's embarrassed. "I don't look down on you for living your life in the Pits, Sound," I whisper, wrapping my arm around his waist to pull him against my form. He resisted for a moment before melting into my embrace. "Did I agree with the things that went on in them? No, definitely not. That was the main thing I wanted to change when I was elected back on Cybertron."

His faceplate jerks up to stare at me through his mask. "You were a politician?" he asks, obviously very shocked. I could see him mentally withdrawing from me even through the mask on his face.

"Stop," I plead gently, holding him steady. I knew he was strong but I needed him to know who I was…who I had been. "I never went to any of those VIP fights in the Pit, Sound. Please, believe me, I wanted to change the Pit, if not get rid of it for good. What they did was a waste of spark and…well, disgusting."

He relaxed, just a bit, before looking up at me again. "How can you interface with me?" his question absolutely floored me. Speechless, I could do nothing but gape at him. "I'm…disgusting, ugly, used…"

"Stop that!" I state firmly, grabbing his shoulder tightly. "You are none of those things! You are…" I look down at him, admiring. "Primus, you're beautiful and when you let everything go you take my breath away! Please, don't think those kinds of things. You were forced into that position and I'm glad that I tried everything to get it shut down, even more now! Sound, please, you're the most beautiful mech I have ever met."

Primus, I sounded like a babbling idiot! My faceplates heated but everything I had said was true and from the spark. If anyone heard me say that other than Soundwave, my reputation was, as the humans said, toast. He stood there, face tilted towards mine, in utter silence while my processor whirled with embarrassment.

Slowly, he takes his mask off and smiles up at me. "When Megatron told me who I would be given," he starts, fiddling with the mask idly. "I was…angry because you were a medical officer back on Cybertron, thus very high up. I resisted but…now, I'm glad. I…never thought Decepticons and Autobots could live in harmony. This experience has proven my hypothesis wrong."

My spark flutters stupidly at his words before I am kissing him. It was passionate, consuming and very real. In my processor, I knew what this meant. I…loved him. I truly did but I wasn't ready to admit it aloud. I was still a little thrown that Decepticons could love Autobots and vise versa. Interfacing with him; laughing with him; seeing him smile happily…they all made me warm on the inside.

It scared me.

"Come on," he smiles when we pull away. "We're running out of daylight."

We were transported to a very familiar looking area and I was shocked to see that it was just outside the town the kids lived in. It appeared as if nothing had happened, honestly. Then, when I shifted, I saw the strange area that was fenced off. "What is that?" I ask, afraid of the answer.

"Energon mine," he explains, mask back in place. "Megatron has humans helping to excavate the energon." His voice was flat and without emotion so I couldn't read him. As we walked toward the mine, I got the feeling that he didn't necessarily believe in the slavery part of this conquest.

When we got to the gate, the Eradicons guarding it straightened automatically as they saw Soundwave. "Sir!" they both shouted, straightening and saluting.

"We've come to see four humans," I say when Soundwave gestures. I guess I was his translator when the _communications _officer didn't want to do just that. Soundwave nodded his helm when they looked at him. "Their names are Jack, Rafael, Miko and June."

They gestured for us to enter and I felt my spark churn at the sight I saw. A side of one of the huge mountains of rock that made up this desert had been dug into where the humans were flaking off small bits while the Vehicons and Eradicons were taking bigger chunks. It was sick sight as I watched humans ranging from teens to the elderly pulling huge amounts of energon around by themselves or in small groups.

"Ratchet!" I heard three voices scream all at once before I saw the children running towards me. My spark broke just watching them rush forward. They were all in dirty, energon-spotted clothing and they had all lost some weight since I last saw them.

Raf latched himself to my leg instantly, hugging me as if to check that I was real. "We thought you were dead," he whispers so softly I almost miss it. He sounds tired and elated all at the same time.

"Yeah, what happened?" Jack asks, wrapping his arm around his mother as she walked up. She looked just as haggard as the children.

I feel my energon run cold. "We lost, Jack," I admit, feeling like a failure.

"Optimus is…" June begins but I shake my head. "Oh God." Her eyes show her sorrow too well but she tries to hide it for the sake of her children. "Is it like this everywhere?"

"I'm not sure," I confess sadly. "Bumblebee, Bulkhead and Arcee are all fine. They are back on the Nemesis. It is…complicated right now."

Miko crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Soundwave who is a good distance behind him, always watchful. Primus, what was I going to say about that? "What's _he _doing here?" she asks in disgust.

Raf looks up at the communications officer with knowing eyes. He and Soundwave had met at one point a while back. "Soundwave," he whispers in awe. "Are you a prisoner, Ratchet?"

I take a silent breath of air. How did I answer him? "Not…exactly," I say slowly, looking to Soundwave for some kind of assistance. He merely stood there looking as he always did around others, lifeless.

"You have some kind of plan though, right?" Miko whispers as if she were being sneaky.

My helm hangs in defeat at her words. "No, Miko, there is nothing I can do right now," I give into defeat. "I am Megatron's Commanding Medical Officer so I am trying to think of a way to get him to concede on your behave but…he is…Megatron."

Jack looks up at me with those wise eyes, he reminded me so much of Optimus sometimes. "You'll think of something. We won't lose hope, Ratchet," he promises as I feel my spark break a little more.

I spent the rest of the day with them. I took them outside of the mine even though the Eradicons almost had a fit about it. Soundwave backed me up and even followed me out to watch from a distance. I wanted to tell them, I truly did, but I knew they wouldn't understand. Instead, I at least got them the day off, fed them what I could, and drove them back to their houses.

I purposefully left Jack and June for last.

June stayed in my cab while Jack went inside. "There's more to this, isn't there?" she asks even before I have a chance to say anything. She was just like her son, wise beyond her years.

"Yes," I sigh deeply, sagging on my tires. "Megatron has put us into…intimate relationships with his generals."

Her face was that of complete shock. "He…forced you into…prostitution?" she tries to rationalize in her head.

"At first, that's what it was but…" I can't find the spark to go on. Fortunately, I don't have to.

"You were put with Soundwave," it wasn't a question.

"Yes."

She was silent for a few moments, running through things in her mind. "It's different though…I saw you look back at him and…you love him," again, it wasn't a question.

I hitched my breath for a second and slowly gave into the reality of things. This world wasn't going to be free as long as Megatron was around; Soundwave and I would never work out if we didn't have the same plans; and I needed to save the humans more than I needed a relationship. I hurt me, deep, and I couldn't help but sigh. "I do, but, the humans are more important than my love life," I whisper, defeated.

"Ratchet," she soothes, rubbing her hands down my steering wheel in a comforting gesture. "I can't imagine you falling for someone that was completely irrational. He must have some good in him for him to melt your crappy, old spark!"

I couldn't help but laugh at her humor. She was right. We would figure this out, one way or another. And, who said that I couldn't help save this planet's people and give up my lover too? Perhaps, it would work out for the best. Plans were already starting to formulate in my processor but I kept them to myself. "Thank you, June," I say as she goes to climb out of the cab.

"No, thank you, for the day off and for giving the kids hope," she smiles, patting my hood as she walked away. I waited until she was inside before I drove off to meet back up with Soundwave.

Things needed to change and I was the 'bot to do it.

* * *

><p>The next few weeks were hectic for the med-bay. First off, Arcee was sparked-up so I had to start making a special blend of energon for her and the sparkling. On top of that, I had to teach both femmes how to be Creators. <em>This<em> was the true challenge. Arachnia and Arcee were warriors _not_ nurturers. Pit, I wasn't sure I remembered how to be nurturing after so many centuries of war! Of course, they were learning, slowly, but I was confident that they would be ready once the sparkling emerged.

Then, at the end of the second week, Bulkhead got sparked-up.

Honestly, thinking about Bulkhead and Breakdown having a sparkling was a little scary but they were doing better than the femmes! Bulkhead was obviously a nurturing mech but I was shocked at how much Breakdown had changed. The first time I showed him the little spark clinging to Bulkhead's, I thought he was going to pass out from shock. In a weird way, it was kind of cute, creepy, but cute.

On the third week, Starscream was pronounced carrying.

Megatron didn't want the classes and didn't even look all that happy to hear the news. He just walked out of the room without saying anything. The other seekers on the other hand…they were like little children. Slipstream had partnered up with Swindle (that was something I didn't want to think about) so she was constantly with him but Skywarp and Thundercracker were both there for the Second when he came in to get checked. The two of them had paired up before the war so I wasn't surprised to see them together but the way they spoke to Starscream was…nice.

They were very supportive of him.

"Oh look Thundercracker!" Skywarp, the more hyper of the two, said. He was pointing at the small light as it orbited Starscreams. "It's so…small!"

"Did you expect it to be big?" the Sire laughs in his deep, resonating voice. Both were very much seekers and they hadn't left Starscream's side since they got there. Honestly, I think it would be better for the Second if he joined into a trine type of relationship with the two seekers. At least then he would get the proper attention.

Starscream rolled his optics but I could tell he was enjoying the attention, seeing as his Sire gave him none but to frag him. "If you'll excuse me," he drawls out, closing his spark-chamber before standing on his elevated pedes. "I have business to attend."

Yeah, I was sure he did.

"Wait," I say before the other two seekers could leave after him. "Let's talk."

They look at each other, curious, before closing the door. "Yeah, what is it doc-bot?" Skywarp asks, jumping up to sit on a berth.

I finish cleaning up before saying anything. "I would like the two of you to watch over Starscream while he carries," I start slowly. They, again, exchange looks of obvious shock. I knew that they were bonded so I didn't understand why they looked at each other; they could read the other's processor. "I'm worried for his health…being Megatron's Bearer. I'm guessing the group of you have had a past so I just want to make sure he gets the attention he needs."

Thundercracker chuckles deeply, laying a servo on his Bearer's shoulder. "You don't have to ask us, doc," he states firmly. "We tried to get Starscream to become a trine with us a long time ago. Sadly, Megatron already had his claws in him by that point. We didn't think anything of it until now. We'll take care of him."

"Thank you," I say slowly. They go to walk out but I speak up again. "The two of you aren't trying to sparklings, are you?"

They pause at the door and give a knowing smirk to each other. "You're too smart for your own good, doc!" Skywarp laughs brightly.

"No smart about it," I grumble. "Seekers frag like scraplets. If you were trying, you'd already be sparked-up." They walk out laughing their afts off while I just shake my head. Little seekers running around did not sound like a good idea. I was going to have too much trouble with a sparkling with half of Arachnia's biology not to mention a mini-Bulkhead.

I was just about done with my work when the door opened and a very proud looking Knockout walked through. My optics went to him then to his lover who looked sheepish. "Oh Primus not you too!" I tease watching Bumblebee's faceplate heat in embarrassment. "Congratulations, 'Bee, Knockout."

After doing a full examination on Bumblebee, my shift was officially over. Hook was the on-call representative so I didn't have to worry about anything but my own lover all night. I had to admit that I was pretty jealous that ever set of partners (except for the ones not trying, AKA all but one of the seekers) were carrying except us. Then again, we had only been interfacing for the past…Primus, had it only been a month? It honestly felt like forever since I had first, truly, met Soundwave.

Standing up, I stretched my struts out contently. It was odd that Soundwave wasn't already here to walk me back to our berthroom. He was usually here right after he got off duty and that was five minutes past due. Slightly worried, I walked toward the main bridge to find him. His comm.-link was cut off so that only added to my curiosity. He could take care of himself, don't get me wrong, but he was never late.

The door was code-locked when I went to open it. Now, I was truly worried. Soundwave never locked the door while he was on duty. There were only four mechs with the code to lockdown, Starscream, Megatron, and…Shockwave. "Scrap."

* * *

><p><strong><span>To be continued...<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: This is a God awful cliff-hanger! XD I like it that way!

A few things before I go to bed!

First: Pandablubb made fanart for Sparkling Treatise! http:/bells-of-gold. deviantart /#/d4u3ugo Take out the spaces and you've got it! It's beautiful and I love it so please go to Deviantart and like it if you have an account, if not, then get one! :D

Second: I go to college, if some of you didn't know and I would like to say that there has been some drama out here, not to mention performances and the such, so if the updates come a little slower than I'm sorry!

Third: I need to reply to all of the reviews I got this past chapter.

**Pandablubb:** Thank you so much for the fanart, yet again I've already said this but it truly is a beautiful piece of art! Besides, you and I think too much alike!

**Morrigayn DeWyvern:** I also am a huge fan of RxSW, obviously and I'm glad you like my story! I do plan on finishing it, actually, sadly, it might have one or two more chapters than I'll be done but I've got a great ending in mind...it's just getting there! XD

**SethBlackwolf: **Oh ho, after this chapter, who knows? By the way, I'm a huge lambo fan! XD

**yamiishot:** Thank you, thank you, I'm glad you like! I thought about that pairing! It'll just be about getting the right story together for it! Arcee is hard to portray! XD It's sad, I'm a girl but my hardest characters to portray are women!

**Raven_Black:** Heehee, who knows? I love Bumblebee, he was my favorite before I fell in love with Ratchet! :D

**Master of Grey:** I saved you for last. I understand where you're coming from and honestly, I wrote that part as something to show Soundwave's growing trust in Ratchet. I can see where it would make you uncomfortable though too. Just know that I wrote it as Soundwave being very willing and that Ratchet never forced him into anything! :D It was all consenting! I hope you don't feel as if I would be offended by your review, because I appreciate your perspective and want you to know that I have taken it to heart! On that note, I love your pairing ideas! I didn't even think about those twins with Ratchet but now that you mention it, I have a thousand ideas running around! So thank you! :D

**_Suggestions so far for the next story:_**  
>1. RatchetxKnockout<br>2. RatchetxEradicon  
>3. RatchetxBumblebee<br>4. RatchetxLambos (I could totally do TFP lambos! I want to see them in TFP anyways!)  
>5. RatchetxArcee<br>6. RatchetxMegatron (oh ho ho...devious! ;3)  
>7. SkyquakexRatchetxDreadwing (Yet again, oh ho ho!)<p>

**Thanks** again to everyone who reviewed! I love reading your comments and I enjoy hearing your feedback! Please, tell me how you like this chapter! I always look forward to reading your thoughts!

Love Love,

.eyeX


	7. Sparkling Treatise: Part Five

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH; SlipxSwin; SkyxTC

Warnings: Smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

* * *

><p>"Scrap," I whispered as I punched in the emergency code that I was given as the CMO. I thanked Primus that Megatron was cocky and didn't think I would do anything against him now that I had his Third as a lover.<p>

The door couldn't open fast enough and when it did I felt myself heat in anger. My body moved before I could do anything. I didn't have any cannons or guns but I had the only thing I needed, my blades. Megatron gave them back to me once I had the CMO position, yet again his arrogance astounded me.

All I saw was Shockwave's body looming over a trapped Soundwave and my response was instantaneous. I jumped on top of the assassin's back, wrapping my arm around his neck to slice at his throat. He let his servo move from my lover's panel to grab my wrist. Honestly, I barely nicked him before I was thrown across the room. My receptors were almost deafened by the sound of metal scraping metal as I slid across the ground.

My pedes were under me in a second as I looked up to face the hulking assassin. He smirked in amusement at me, his servo still wrapped around Soundwave's neck, pinning him to the computer. I was in it deep now. How as I going to take on Shockwave? I was a mere medic. Sure, I had centuries of a war to help me along with my fighting skills but…he was the best assassin there had ever been!

"I wondered when you would get here, medic," he scoffs in that deep voice that made my metal crawl. He turned his one optic back on the Third in his grasp. "I can't imagine why he would pick you over me, honestly. You fight like a small sparkling and here I am…the one who has proven himself numerous times in the Pit."

Shockwave had been a Pit fighter too? I looked from the quiet mech to the giant. It all suddenly clicked together. "You fought in the VIP matches, didn't you?" I whisper in disbelief.

He smirks slowly. "You're quick, medic," he comments and I can feel myself recoil in disgust. "Actually, I remember Soundwave when he was young. That's when they sent them to the VIP matches, you know? When they're young, bright and still hopeful, still beautiful. Then, they send a seasoned warrior, like me, in to tear them down, rough them up a bit." My insides turned in anger and disgust; my shoulders were gaining tension the more that he spoke about it. "Soundwave was actually taken from his home in the Iacon. He was going to be a great musician, then again, with a voice like his…who would doubt that, am I right?"

"Shut up!" I shout harshly, trying to keep my eyes away from Soundwave. "You don't know anything about him!"

His laugh was twisted and distorted. "I know more than you, medic!" he points out, tossing the mech to the side harshly. Instead, he comes at me slowly.

"No you don't," I growl. "You may know his past, but I know him, the here and the now…and that's all that matters."

"Oh, Ratchet, so naïve," he demeans, getting ever closer. "You have no clue what kind of animal Soundwave can be." He stands a few feet from me, smirking. "His voice is prettiest when he's screaming in pain."

I can't stand it anymore and charge him. Even if I died here, I wouldn't go down without a fight, that was for sure. My blades were drawn and everything but before I could even get to him several tentacles came out of nowhere. They wrapped around his neck then his spark chamber, obviously catching him off guard. "I will not be the victim," I hear Soundwave's voice state as the tentacles started to squeeze.

Shockwave started to fight against the bindings but his arms were pressed to his sides by the purely coil ligaments. Walking forward, I could see that he had lost. "You're wrong," I state firmly. "Soundwave is beautiful when he's happy." Without a second thought, I plunged my blade into the mech's spark-chamber. I heard the pop of his spark right before he crumbled in the tentacles.

Soundwave dropped the dead form before rushing forward to wrap himself around me. My arms held him tight as we slipped to the ground, clinging to each other. I could feel his spark pounding against my chamber and that little bit helped to solidify that my lover was safe. I hadn't lost him and I was still alive as well. Megatron be damned, right now, I was just glad that we were both alive and unharmed.

"Ratchet," he whispers, pulling away enough to look at me. His mask was cracked and I gently took it off so that his faceplate wouldn't be damaged. "I'm sorry, he-"

I pressed my lips to his, taking his words away and replacing them with something good. Right now, I just needed to let my processor whirl and get over the shock of the fight. After the war ended, I hadn't thought I'd be needed to fight again but without a second thought, I had jumped back into being a warrior. He pressed into me and for a while, we just sat there, needing each other.

Much later, I found myself sitting in our berthroom, waiting for Soundwave to get back from the meeting with Megatron and Starscream. Shockwave had been a very important part of the Decepticon army and even though I didn't fear for Soundwave, I feared for our relationship. This was not a small matter. I was still trying to wrap my processor around the fact that Shockwave had been one of Soundwave's abusers and yet he would have willingly gone to him had I expressed an unwillingness to be with the communication's officer.

I perked up when the door opened to allow Soundwave into our berthroom. He looked exhausted beyond belief. Standing, I went over to wrap my arms around his form, feeling him melt into the embrace eagerly. I led him over to the berth and laid him down. We both needed some intense recharge; I settled down beside him gently. "How'd it go?" I ask slowly.

He vented air harshly before turning to look at me. "Megatron understands why it had to be done but…he's still not happy," he explains, lacing his fingers with mine to pull me closer. We stay silent for a few moments before he speaks up again. "We did the right thing…right?"

His doubt makes my spark hurt as I turn to lay on my back, hauling him up so that he can lay across my chest. "Yes, we did what we had to," I assure him, kissing his forehead lightly. "Recharge, we can think about this in the morning."

Things went back to normal after the Shockwave issue was settled but I started to enjoy the smaller freedoms of the CMO job. I was soon allowed to roam the Earth's surface when I had the chance. Sometimes I went with Soundwave but other times I went while he was on duty and I wasn't. I just needed to be alone to my thoughts sometimes and it was rather nice to get the kids and June a day off every so often. I didn't dare do it too much or Megatron might suspect something.

He didn't need to know what I was doing until I was done.

Pulling into a cave, I waited for my rendezvous to meet up with me. It was a nice hiding spot and I had left a message for him back at base, a place I was sure he would look first and foremost. The designated time and spot was heavily detailed so I knew he would be here. All that I needed to do was wait.

The sound of an engine was frightening even when I saw the three characteristic colors on the grounder's body. He was a sleek sports car with plenty of torque to drift and race. His form fit in nicely with mine in the cave as she transformed to our bipedal modes. He had that cocky, arrogant look on his faceplate that I was well accustomed to.

"Ratchet, what the frag is going on around here?" he asks me as soon as he can. His servos reach out to touch my shoulders as he looks me over once. I didn't have any wounds on my body so he found nothing; in fact, I probably looked better because I had Soundwave to polish and wax me on a daily basis.

I brush his servos off gently with a smile. "We lost, Wheeljack," I admit sadly. "Optimus is…"

His optics widen in shock. "The Prime? Gone? Never saw that one coming," he mutters more to himself than me. He looks back up at me and narrows his optics. "What's the plan? I know you have one."

I smile sadly. "I do but I need your help to do it."

"Name it."

As I was driving away, I hoped that this plan would work. It was the last chance we had to making a difference for the humans. It was simple enough. Wheeljack had a ship so he could get off planet, all he needed were the times of outer-orbit patrol to slip through the cracks. I knew approximately where Prowl's team was and they could be here within the next two months. If they booked it, one month was possible but it would take Wheeljack time to get out there. I just needed to wait this thing out until Prowl got here with his team. The last time I checked he had six on his team, five worth their weight in energon as warriors.

Until then, it was back to the med-bay for me. I needed to act completely normal so I immersed myself in the care of the sparklings that would be born in about three months. Arcee was already starting to show and they were doing really well in their lessons on how to be nurturing. The closer the due date got, the more like a Creator Arcee became because of all the additives I was putting into her energon along with the changes in her body make-up.

Bulkhead was a completely different story. He was becoming more and more annoying as the pregnancy went on. Huge mood swings to fit his stature and Breakdown was always asking stupid questions. Well, they were always really out there possibilities of the sparkling being born with some type of deformity or another. It was wearing me out, honestly. With Bulkhead's moods and Breakdown's anxiety of the sparkling I wasn't going to make it until Prowl got here.

Bumblebee and Knockout, even though they had started out the rockiest in their relationship, seemed like the perfect bonded-pair. Knockout was nurturing to 'Bee, always right beside him no matter where they were. If Knockout was in the med-bay then the little yellow 'bot was there too; if Bumblebee had to go out to get supplies on an errand, then Knockout went with him. It was kind of sick but cute all at the same time.

Before the Shockwave issue, I had thought about asking Soundwave to spark-bond with me but…I couldn't now. If I was bonded with Soundwave then he would find out about my plans. He would stop them, surely, and I couldn't allow that to happen. I wanted to tell him, Primus knew I did, but this was for the humans and the sake of the sparklings. I knew the Decepticons bonded to my Autobots would eventually turn to my side but…Soundwave was so loyal to Megatron. He had been ever since the beginning.

I worried how this ended but…I had others to think about before myself.

About a month later, Slipstream was carrying. Starscream, Arcee, Bulkhead and Bumblebee were halfway through their terms and Soundwave and myself had yet to bond. It was getting to the point where Megatron had started asking questions. First off, he wanted to know why two of his seekers had yet to get sparked-up. They didn't want to admit that they didn't want a sparkling, actually, they were completely opposed to rearing children. They just wanted to fly around and do what they wanted.

Then, I was called onto the bridge while off duty to speak with the Decepticon leader. "How are you fairing, Ratchet?" he asks when I step forward to stand a good ten feet away. He had his back to me and Starscream was sitting not too far off, abdomen starting to swell already. Megatron wasn't interested in any of the classes but Starscream had come to me several times to ask about rearing the sparkling so I had hopes that the other two seekers would help him through.

"Very well," I answer shortly, I could be somewhere else right now. Such as, in my berth with my lover who was also off duty.

He nods his helm before turning around, all business. "Is my Third not to your liking?" he finally questions bluntly.

I am floored. How could he think that? "Of course he is!" I state dryly, not sure where this was going.

His red optics narrow dangerously. "I only ask because I know that you have yet to spark-bond with him," he points out, staring at me to intimidate. "Every other pair has except for the two of you."

My spark clenches at his insinuation. He wasn't dumb. "I don't want to rush things any more than I have to, sir," I say smoothly, trying to seem confident. I think I did a pretty good job of it. "I care for Soundwave, but I don't know if either of us are ready yet."

Megatron holds his servo out to stare at his clawed fingers, bored. "I worry…that you do not want to bond with him because you are hiding something," he finally cuts straight to the point without preamble. Of course he would be paranoid but I hadn't expected it so soon.

"No sir, I just want to make sure that he is completely ready, and with what happened with Shockwave…I worry," I make up an excuse, though it was a true worry. He seemed fine but I wasn't so sure sometimes.

He evaluates me for a few moments before nodding his helm. "I suggest you decide whether or not he is worth bonding with or I will find a better suited Sire. Soundwave is a very intelligent and…rare type of mech. His symbiotes have been very useful in the past," he reveals his true purpose behind the conversation. He had a secondary vendetta, which wasn't surprising, but it still shocked me a bit.

Very few mechs and femmes could take on symbiotes and they were usually Bearers who gave berth to sparklings with the same ability. It was like fliers bonding with grounders. Nine times out of ten, their offspring were fliers. I had never really understood how that happened but fliers just seemed to be the more dominant Creator, make-up wise.

"I understand," is all I say before leaving the bridge. It hurt my spark to hide things from my Bearer but I couldn't compromise the integrity of my team and the humans for my own selfish gains. I couldn't help but wonder what Optimus would say if he were here. He always knew what to say.

I walked into our berthroom to see Soundwave tinkering with his mask. It had taken quite the beating so he was trying to weld on a new screen and that took a lot of tactile skill. I wouldn't have the patience to deal with it but he seemed to enjoy the work. "He ask you about bonding?" he asks without looking up.

My faceplate warmed as I nodded. Laserbeak was resting on her master's shoulder, watching him work. That was the only symbiote that I had ever seen and I wondered why he didn't have more. I remember Blaster who had a ton of the little suckers that ran around the Autobot base causing all sorts of trouble. It was strange for someone like Soundwave to only have one. This was probably why they were so rare, Soundwave's kind. They were constantly surrounded by symbiotes who were pretty much children so they had no need for bond-mates or sparklings.

"He had that conversation with me as well," Soundwave mutters, focused completely on his mask as he did very delicate rewiring slowly. It was nice to see him absorbed in something. That meant his processor was completely distracted from the Shockwave incident.

I took up my datapad and started reading up on the latest check-ups with the Bearers and femme. Starscream's readings were very…odd. He wasn't getting the proper attention he needed from Megatron, I knew this, but he was the healthiest of the group so far. I couldn't help but think it was Skywarp and Thundercracker's constant devotion that kept him so healthy. They were all healthy but Starscream's systems were absolutely flawless.

It was a huge weight off of my shoulders.

Soundwave is quiet for a long time while I check up on the readings but I can tell he is working his way to asking something. He was figeting in his seat and Laserbeak seemed to flutter her wings a little too much. They were bonded by the spark so they were almost like bond mates except Soundwave had given a part of his spark to the small bird-like creature. It was sweet but a lot of Cybertronians thought it was slavery, what mechs like Soundwave did with their symbiotes. Sometimes, there were abusive masters but most of the time the connection was so strong it was like Creator and sparkling.

"I know you went to see Wheeljack, Ratchet," he finally says.

My spark stops but I continue what I am doing. I figured he would learn about it sooner or later but I had hoped he would learn after everything was set into motion. "You going to turn me in to Megatron?" I ask honestly, setting my datapad down. What was the use of lying? Soundwave was the communication's officer of the Decepticons. He didn't get that position because he was sloppy or stupid.

He hesitates just barely, setting his mask to the side. "I should," he starts slowly. Getting up from his place in the homemade chair in the corner of our room, he climbs up to sit in my lap, legs straddling mine.

"Why haven't you?"

His servos rest on my shoulders as he sits back on, relaxed. "I want to know why you're doing this. Why call in reinforcements when the war is over? Why start it up again, aren't you happy?" he questions, staring down into my optics.

I wrap my arms around his waist and lean against the wall. "I'm happy only in the sense that I met you," I tell him honestly. A relationship couldn't thrive on secrets and I wasn't willing to lie to him even if it killed my plans. He probably knew everything about it. "I can't agree or be happy with the slavery of humans. I also can't stand the thought of those sparklings raised in a world where Megatron is ruler. It goes against everything I believe in, Soundwave, and I can't live knowing I'm going against those beliefs."

He just sits there for a long time, contemplating, running everything through that huge processor of his. I could practically see the thoughts passing through his optics. His fingers run across the back of my neck idly and anxiety runs through my spark. I couldn't read him. Usually, he was easy to read, for me, but now he was hiding his emotions really well. "When Megatron started this revolution," he finally speaks up. I release the held air in my body. "I was behind him completely. We started the Decepticons because we wanted equality among all Cybertronians. We wanted a world where we could all live in peace with both Autobots _and _Decepticons ruling together…

"As the war has progressed, he has lost track of those beliefs," he whispers, pressing his forehead against mine. "I still believe those ideals to be true but…the slavery of the humans doesn't sit well with me because I have lived through slavery and I do not want to revert back to that. It's the reason why we started this war in the first place. We have learnt nothing."

My spark was pounding. "What does this mean…for us?" I breathe weakly.

His optics close slowly. "I will follow beside you, Ratchet. Megatron must be dealt with but Decepticons have to have a place in the future you have planned out," he compromises with a smile.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I chuckle before kissing him deliberately. His body pressed up against mine and I let my servos curl down to grip his aft, jerking his panel against mine. The sigh was lost in the kiss as my fingers slipped into the seams of his hip to tweak a few wires playfully.

His own fingers were teasing the seams of my shoulders, lighting my panel on fire. He pulls away to cycle air heavily, his helm resting against my shoulder as I dipped down to nip his neck cables. "R-Ratchet," he whispers, looking up at me with his red optics. "Bond with me."

His words were like fuel to the fire inside of my body. "Are you sure?" I ask, already getting ready to unlock the clasps on my spark-chamber. I was more ready than I had ever been about anything in my entire function.

"Primus, yes," he gasps as his spark-chamber opens.

Watching in awe, I stare at his beautiful soul, literally. It was a bright, shining blue, just as mine was and brightened the dark room immensely. I had seen all of the sparks of the crew by now and those of the sparklings but none could compare to Soundwave's.

I released my own spark chamber latches and opened up for him. He looked down at me in wonder before a bit of doubt slipped into his optics. "Don't be afraid," I soothe, moving closer so that our open chambers were right against one another.

"Okay," he breathes just as our sparks merge.

It was…like _nothing_ I had ever experienced in my function. There was a flash of pleasure before I was sucked into the mech's processor. I could feel him all around me; I could taste his thoughts; I heard his emotions; and I knew he was experiencing the same thing. His love and pleasure were so strong I couldn't help but pant in awe as he sent a strong pulse of them into my spark. I responded in kind, letting all of my feelings for him fill him to the brink.

His helm tilted back in a show of absolute pleasure, whimpering my name. It was so powerful, so overwhelming that I could already feel my overload sneaking up on me. My panel popped open at the same time his did and our spikes rubbed together sensually. We were both moaning in unison as I reached down to grab him under his aft. Somehow, I managed to keep our sparks united as I penetrated the mech's dripping valve.

We were enveloped in pleasure that we just kept feeding to each other, my thrusts jerky but deep, touching that one bundle of nodes I knew too well. He was growing louder as I coaxed his overload then he would send me what he was feeling and my body would tingle with electricity. No words were needed as we both understood each other completely.

Our overloads were simultaneous and powerful.

My vision almost blanked out there for a second. We lay there panting for a long time, before pulling our sparks away, hesitate to lose the bond. Only, even when our chambers closed, I could still feel what he was feeling; I could hear his thoughts. When two sparks merged, there was no way for them to come back the way they were before, you took a piece of your partner back with you. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

_Amazing_…his processor breathed across mine.

All I had to do was think and he heard my agreement. We couldn't help but laugh in our immense joy at the feeling, floating in the pleasure. "This is weird," he whispers even though I heard him think it before it left his lips.

"I know," I respond, kissing his lips.

_I'm tired…_I hear him think as I wrap my arms around his waist, rolling my hips playfully against his. _Primus…_

"I like this," I laugh brightly as he smacks my arm lightly. "Come on, you're a lot younger than me! You should be the vivacious one!"

He sighs but I suck in air when he jerks his hips slightly. "You're insatiable!" But I could feel the love through our bond and it felt nice, really nice.

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><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p>AN: This is a little shorter than the rest of the chapters but I figured it was a good place to end!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

I have decided which pairing I'll do next time!

**RatchetxKnockout**

I had more people ask for them so that's who I'll do next! I love this pairing too so it'll be easy! I've already got some ideas going around about what I want to do with them!

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!


	8. Sparkling Treatise: Part Six

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH; SlipxSwin; SkyxTC; WJxHR; PxJ; SidexSunny

Warnings: Smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

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><p>"Well, well, nice ship," the strange, unfamiliar mech states as he steps out of his own, smaller ship easily. He wasn't necessarily large but he did have some bulk to his tall stature. He was painted in red, green, grey and white, which normally wouldn't go together but they seemed to fit him perfectly. He walked with a strange gait that expressed a nonchalant but confident attitude perfectly. I could tell that he had been through his share of battles and probably more than most warriors. He had this…charisma about him that demanded attention.<p>

Prowl stepped forward. He was also a very attention-grabbing individual. His body was tall and lean with very drab colors, white and black, but then again, Prowl was the epitome of drab. He was a rule-bot. Constantly going by the book no matter what happened. Don't get me wrong, he was a fraggin' genius with tactics and he could lead an army better than most generals but he was just so…strict. He wore a visor over his optics that was like a little computer; it could show core readings and even messages from members of our team.

"You said you had a message from Ratchet," Prowl gets right to the point. Did he ever deal with pleasantries?

The mech quirks an optic ridge but nods his helm solemnly. "Optimus has been defeated by Megatron," he states bluntly.

My spark drops in denial. "No," I whisper, pressing my servo to my spark-chamber.

"Liar!" Sunstreaker shouts, stomping up to the visitor aggressively. His brother, Sideswipe was right behind him, tugging at his arms uselessly. "There's no way Megatron could kill Optimus! You're lying!"

"Sunny," his brother soothes pulling him away.

"Where's the proof?" he still screams even when Jazz is stepping up to ease the irate twin back.

The multicolored warrior pulls out a datapad and hands it over to Prowl. "Ratchet said that this was all ya need to know about the problem on Earth," he explains, watching as the Second activates the pad and scans the data.

There is silent for a long time before Prowl lets out a vented sigh of defeat, something I had never seen him do before. "It's true."

Hope, something that only Optimus could instill in us, slowly drained from the room as Sunstreaker leaned against his brother. Jazz placed a gentle servo on the twin's shoulder. Perceptor, our scientist, covered his face with his servo and seemed to pray for a few moments. Without Optimus…there wasn't a fighting chance. He was our Prime, our leader.

"You are Wheeljack?" Prowl asks, still scanning the data, trying to hide the gritting of his denta. He was just as affected by this discovery as we were, he was better than us at hiding it.

Wheeljack nods his helm slowly. "I didn't know Optimus for very long but…if it means anything, he was a great leader," he offers up, his optics moving across the team until they land on me. My spark tightens again at the look in his optics; he understood what we were going through in his own way. He had gone through this same thing at least once.

"Megatron has the Matrix," it wasn't a question from Prowl and I guessed he had just read it on the datapad. I could see the monstrous processor working feverishly behind his optics; he was going through battle plans as we stood there, gauging their effectiveness and calculating our chances of winning. He was wickedly intelligent and was one of the reasons the Autobots had stayed up on the Decepticons so long. It was no wonder he was the Second-in-Command…well, that was before this promotion.

"Yeah, not that it does him any good," the warrior scoffs harshly. "Or us for that matter."

Prowl glances up at Wheeljack through his visor before smirking, an uncharacteristic gesture from him. "Not so," he corrects quickly. "Optimus had already named his successor should this ever happen."

Wheeljack ran his servo over his face. "I'm not real smart when it comes to Prime-like things but…you can do that? I thought the Matrix had to choose someone," he questions, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to one leg.

Prowl looked like he was annoyed with a small sparkling but I could tell that Wheeljack and the captain weren't going to get along the second the warrior stepped out of his ship. There was just something in their personalities that seemed to clash dangerously. Prowl was logical and planned things with back-up plans for his back-up plans; Wheeljack seemed like the mech that would take on things as they came. This was going to be difficult for them to get along.

"The Matrix does decide but since it is inside Optimus, he can feel when that decision is made," he tries to explain without sighing in frustration. He only got that tone when he felt like he was talking to someone with less processor power than him, which, honestly, was all the time.

Wheeljack wasn't stupid. He could read the tone of voice that Prowl was using and he didn't like it. "Oh yeah, smart guy?" he mocks harshly, making me tense. Prowl was the intelligent Second but he was also a well seasoned warrior, I worried for Wheeljack's safety. "So whose the lucky Cybertronian?"

"I am," I step forward, catching the warrior's attention.

A glint of sympathy rushes through his optics for a second before it's gone. "I don't envy you," he admits honestly.

Before I can respond, Prowl does it for me. "Hotrod understands that it is his duty to take over Optimus' place as Prime. It is an honor to be picked by the Matrix," he tells the warrior as if it were the most obvious response.

My air huffed out of my body. Yeah…honor, whatever Prowl said. Wheeljack looked from Prowl to me then back before shrugging his shoulders carelessly. "Not my business," he finally decides, ending the conversation.

I had screen watching duty for the next eight hours, which was unfair because it was supposed to be Sunny's turn. Sides' had politely asked me to do this just once and he promised he would take a shift for me sometime. To be truthful, Sunny was very distraught by the death of our Prime. Sure, he was a prankster and was more annoying than anything else but he had really looked up to Optimus in a way. That's probably why I accepted without thinking. He needed some time to come to terms with this.

Slag, _I _needed time to come to grips with this. I couldn't believe that Optimus was dead; killed by Megatron. He always spoke of the possibility but we never believed it could ever happen. Optimus just seemed so…invincible. He and Megatron had been going at it for so long that we became accustomed to their battles. We always imagined that Megatron would die at Optimus' servos some day.

"Hey kid." I jump at the unfamiliar voice. I hadn't even heard Wheeljack come through the door; I must really be distracted. "Woah, sorry, didn't mean to scare ya!" he chuckles, sitting himself down in the chair next to me.

"It's okay," I chuckle, trying to calm my thundering spark uselessly. "It's just been a weird few hours."

He nods his helm slowly, staring out the massive windows that made up the main bridge. Space was beautiful the first few times you traveled in it and then you realized that it was just a bunch of burning balls of gas or desolate planets and silence. It was pretty but I really wanted to land to walk on land again. I wanted to feel the warmth of a sun on my metal and grass or rock under my tires.

"I am sorry about your Prime," he speaks up after a few moments of quiet. "He was a great guy. I wish I had known him longer." His words warmed my spark a little, making me recall all of the great times we had with the Prime, even in the middle of this war.

"He was a great leader," I say softly, turning to look at the mech. I felt my spark jump at the look in his optics. For some reason, his optics seemed brighter, maybe it was because of the dark grey framing of his faceplate but they were so clear. I could see a few scars on his lower lip that never healed properly but they only added to his charisma.

He shifted slightly and looked at me straight on, getting serious all of a sudden. "Listen," he drawls out in a strange accent that I couldn't place. "I know you feel like you _hav'ta_ take on the Matrix but…it's your choice in the end."

Ah, so that's what he wanted to talk about. This whole conversation made sense now. "You don't seem to understand, Wheeljack," I say as politely as I possibly can. I wasn't very good at tact, to say the least. "No one rejects the Matrix once its made its choice."

He nods his helm as I talk but I can see that he doesn't believe me. "Alright," he starts with that smug smirk. "Who would you rather have to lead you? Someone who was picked by the Matrix but chose it of their free will or someone who didn't want it but took it anyways?"

I felt my faceplate heat in embarrassment. He knew what my answer had to be; Optimus took the Matrix of his own free will and he prospered but if I took it without wanting it…I'd just be pretending. "I just…don't think I have what it takes," I admit for the first time out loud. "I would never say it to Prowl but I wish the Matrix had chosen him instead. I think he'd make a great leader, he already does, so why did it pick me?"

"Well," Wheeljack comforts with a smirk. "It must see something worthwhile."

It was the first time anyone had said those words to me and…for some reason, it made me feel better, a lot better. My faceplate heated at the look he was giving me. He was completely confident in his justification of the situation. "I don't know what. Prowl is a tactical genius; Jazz is the best saboteur from Cybertron; Perceptor can't fight but he has more processor capacity than anyone; Sunny and Sides' are reckless but both are talented in the arts and on the battlefield; and I'm…nothing."

He scoots closer. "You must have _something _you're good at!" he laughs heartily.

I stare at him warily before sighing. "I'm fast?" I try and I can see the playful glint in his optics even before he opens his mouth.

"Oh yeah?" he drawls out suggestively. I feel my metal burn with a strange mixture of embarrassment and expectation. I wasn't an ugly mech, I knew this, but it had been a long time since someone had come onto me. I'd admit to joining Sunny and Sides' when they invited me to join in with their fun but I hadn't ever really been serious with anyone. Who had the time with war? "You and I'll have to put that to the test on Earth."

I feel my spark clench in response to the bright blue optics that slowly slipped down my form. He wasn't holding anything back, was he? "Wh-What did you say you did before messenger 'bot?" I try to change the subject.

He knew what I was doing but rolled with it. "I was a Wrecker."

"A Wrecker? Really?" I gasp, staring at him in shock. Well, that's where he got his self-confident attitude and the perfected smirk. Not to mention, that's why he and Prowl didn't get along too well. Wreckers were known for getting the jobs that no one would take because it was tactically impossible or just suicide. Prowl didn't enjoy going into a situation blind and reckless.

He smirked proudly. "Yeah, that's right," he chuckles lightly. "I'd tell you some stories but they're all kind of long and drawn out."

I looked around dramatically. "I'm here for the next six hours!"

His sarcastic, suggestive grin widens. "Then you have time."

* * *

><p>I liked the kid, I really did, but he just needed some fun in his life. Prowl was constantly up his vents about order and rules that he just couldn't <em>live<em>. In a war, you needed something to keep your processor off all of the death and destruction. The Wreckers used high-grade to soothe our aching nerves, especially when we came back from a mission a few short. Being in the Wreckers was something of a bond that couldn't be broken; we were all brothers and sisters in arms. It hurt to come back without one of your own.

Hotrod, as the kid was called, needed some time away from this ship and I had the perfect way of doing it. "Hey, Prowler," I called before walking into the Second's office. The door was open, it was allowed. Jazz was standing behind his bond-mate's chair, helping him with something and smiled when I walked in. I liked Jazz, I thought he was a cool mech so it surprised me to learn that he was bonded with the stickler over there. How those two had stuck together so long was beyond me.

He sighed deeply, not even trying to hide his derision of my presence. "Yes, Wheeljack?" he asks as politely as he possibly could. I had to give him credit for sounding only mildly annoyed.

"My ship needs to refuel and we're pretty close to a good planet full of energon," I start saying, looking up at Jazz who was giving me this strange smile. I knew he was a black-mailer but it still made me a little uncomfortable that he always seemed to know everything that went on. I had heard of his work from some of my buddies in the Wreckers even before the war when Jazz had been apart of the politics on Cybertron. It was hard to believe that this was the same person; he was just so…nice! "You mind if I take Hotrod with me? It'll be good for him to get some fresh air and get his wheels on the ground."

Prowl looks like he is going to reject the idea immediately but Jazz leans down to whisper into his receptor. He didn't need to; they were connected through the spark. Prowl tries to argue with his bond-mate but I can see who would win this argument. Jazz was obviously the equalizer of the rule-bot. "Very well then," he finally concedes stubbornly. "But I expect him back before we exit this galaxy."

"Yes sir!" I salute sarcastically, shooting Jazz a thankful smile before leaving the office quickly. Prowl and I would probably never get along but I could respect him for his leadership skills. I had also heard about his tactical prowess on the battlefield and could respect a leader that looked after his soldiers.

I went straight to Hotrod's quarters and knocked on the door briskly. I heard movement just before the door opened to let me see the young 'bot. He was a pretty mech, obviously very young, with a small, aristocratic faceplate that was slender and elegant. His helm was very well carved to frame his blue optics perfectly. He was a mixture of bright, exciting colors: his helm was a fiery, passionate red with a bright yellow chevron. He had burnt orange highlights on his chest and down his legs along with the strong yellows of the flames that decorated his entire form.

He was beautiful; sleek and efficient with perky door wings that caught the attention easily. They twitched with his emotions…it was rather…sexy. "How's it hummin'?" I ask playfully as his blue optics light up.

"Come on in," he offers, moving to the side to let me into his private quarters. It didn't surprise me that the room was a mess and it was kind of cute to see half dismantled weapons lying on every surface. There were a few mementos from Cybertron on one table next to his berth but other than that it was a room that looked used. "Prowl just told me that you're taking me to a planet?"

I liked his honesty and the way he didn't care for pleasantries. He was straight to the point, and I found that incredibly appealing. He also looked eager, naively so. "Yep, thought you could use some time to put your wheels to the ground," I said, picking up a weapon from a table. Its internals were shredded but it looked like a few parts had been salvaged. "If you don't want to though…"

"No! I mean," he clears the air out of his intakes. "I'd enjoy that."

Yeah, just keep playing calm and cool maybe one day I'd believe it. "Great, because we leave right now," I say, turning around to exit the room. "You won't need anything, just yourself."

* * *

><p>The trip was short and sweet but his driving was something of a wreck, honestly. I was so used to Prowl's driving that it was like night and day; Wheeljack was just as reckless behind the controls as he was in real life. That wasn't to say I didn't enjoy rushing through the planets, seeing all the different colors and enjoying the change of scenery.<p>

I was happy that he invited me out on this excursion but I wondered why he did it. Ever since he came onto the ship, he had had a strange interest in me. It was nice to have someone that I could talk with and listen to stories from the days when he used to be a Wrecker. I missed Kup's old stories about when he had been a soldier in the war against the Quintessons. He never seemed to run out of them until he was killed in a battle before Cybertron died. I was kind of glad he had passed away when he had because it would have killed him anyways to see his home die.

A few of us had been born in the middle of the war, Bumblebee and I were two of those few and we hadn't even known our Creators. Soon after we were born, we were already shipped out to become soldiers. It was either fight or die and we chose to fight.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had been in the Pits before they were recruited by the Autobots, somehow. Usually, the gladiators went with the Decepticons. Megatron was a gladiator when he started the Decepticons but something pushed the twins into joining up with our side. It just solidified that Decepticons wasn't a born in trait; you could chose to change sides if you really wanted to. It was not uncommon for Optimus to use them as an example for taking in rogue Decepticons.

I shook my processor of the leader. It was a sad waste of life for Optimus to die and my spark clenched painfully when I thought about the mech. He had survived far longer than his bond-mate, Elita One. When she was killed, I noticed something changed in him. He was harder on the Decepticons, still caring and merciful, but a little more vicious in battle. He spent hours in his berthroom secluded from the others. Prowl, Jazz and Ratchet were the only ones he confided in and Ratchet pretty much forced him to admit his mourning.

My processor conjured memories of Optimus before Elita One's passing. He had been brighter, more hopeful before her spark had been snuffed out. She had been his only hope in a dark living. It was sad to see him go but I knew they were together in the All-Spark and happy. I took what little comfort I could from that thought but it still left me feeling empty inside. I wasn't sure if there was any kind of balm that could heal my pain.

"We're here!" Wheeljack exclaims happily, jolting me from my depressing thoughts. He stands from his chair to head towards the door. "You comin'?"

I jump to my pedes and rush after him, excited to stretch my legs. My wheels itched to feel dirt and soil underneath them; I needed to race something fierce. He walked at a brisk pace, telling me that he needed to set his wheels down just as badly.

That first blast of sunlight nearly fritzed my optics but I quickly adjusted to look around the lush planet. It was covered in bright blues and greens and reds that made my optics hurt. All I had seen for the past couple of weeks on that ship were steely colors, dull and boring. This planet was full of life and noisy. It was paradise.

Taking in a deep breath of the oxygen rich air, I tilted my helm back to bask in the warmth coming from the sun far above. I closed my optics, just enjoying the moment, until I became aware of something strange. Straightening, I looked over to see that Wheeljack was watching me with some weird expression on his faceplate.

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious. Did I have something on my faceplate?

He shakes his helm. "Let's see how fast you are, kid!" he changes the subject before transforming and taking off in a cloud of dust.

"Oh slag no!" I laugh, following suit. My wheels nearly sang with the feeling of dirt and grit under the rubber; there was nothing better than this. I kept Wheeljack's multicolored tailgate in my sight at all times but also tried to focus on the forest passing around us. It was covered in organic vegetation that seemed to spring from everywhere, pumping oxygen into the atmosphere easily.

Wheeljack cut a harsh left and I effortlessly copied, weaving through trees like I was made to do it. We burst from the tree-line and cut across a huge field. He was agile and impressive, I had to admit, but I was determined to show him up. I was pretty competitive, if you couldn't tell. Cranking the gas, I sped past him and left him in my own cloud of dust.

"Can't keep up, old model?" I called to him.

I heard him gun his engine, a sound that was both a purr and a roar, before I was having to keep up with him. He had a lot of horsepower under that slender hood of his and I couldn't help but find it extremely attractive. There were very few mechs that could keep up with me, let alone outrun me (Blurr excluded, because he was just a monster). I felt my engine purr with appreciation as he cut a hard U-turn that made my processor spin as dirt and grass was kicked up.

He was heading straight for me in a game of wits that I knew too well. I kicked up the heat and pressed forward until my processor started flashing warnings at me. Our engines were deafening as we raced forward, neither wanting to give up and admit that the other was more stubborn. My core temperature was in the red and there were baring warnings telling me to back off but I wouldn't. I could go a few more minutes.

It was at the last minute that I saw that he wasn't going to back off, even if that meant running head on into each other. I transformed and jumped over the speeding Wrecker before landing in a crouch. My vents were whirling, trying to get enough air into my body to cool my core temperature drastically. My receptors vaguely registered the sound of his transformation before a servo landed on my shoulder.

"You okay kid?" he asks, panting as well. At least he had been working as hard as I had or I'd feel real dumb. I nod my helm slowly. It had been a long time since someone had pushed me that hard…it felt good, really good. In fact, I had never felt better even though my internals were having a field day. "That was nice."

He was sitting beside me in the grass, his vents working in overtime. We were a noisy couple but I couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, it was," I admit softly, sitting back on my aft to enjoy the beautiful weather. There were barely any clouds in the sky and I could hear the wildlife chirping away in the forest. I close my optics for two seconds before I feel a weight against my chest. Snapping alert, I freeze when I see Wheeljack leaning over me, staring at my faceplate with that weird look on his faceplate again. "What are you-"

"Trying something," he whispers before his lips cover mine. I hesitate, my servos automatically going to his shoulders to push him away, but…instead, I pull him closer. I will never be able to explain why I let him kiss me. Maybe I was lonely and needed someone to call my own or maybe it was because he was the only person to tell me it was okay to be afraid. Maybe he just understood me a little more than I wanted to admit but I let him kiss me nonetheless.

His glossa invaded my mouth and I felt a spark of lust rush to my interface panel. He tasted of electricity and heat, an intoxicating mixture. It stole the breath right from my body and I let my glossa play with his, encouraging our tryst. Prowl would not like this development but…the more I soul searched, the more I didn't care. He could think what he wanted; I just wanted a few moments of intimacy.

Wheeljack pulled away to stare down at me. "Well, that was…nice," he chuckles breathlessly.

"Nice?" I quirk an optic ridge playfully. "That it?"

He laughs brightly, swinging his leg over my waist to straddle me. I felt heat flare in my panel as he sat back, smirking down at me. "Okay, a little more than just nice," he admits with a cocky smirk.

"This why you brought me out?" I ask teasingly. "To seduce me?"

Tilting his helm, he thinks it over. "That was part of it," he leers, dipping a finger into a seam to tease the wires that lie underneath. My vents hitch at the sudden shock of pleasure that races through me. "You looked like you needed something de-stressin'."

"No commitment?" I question, honestly. I wanted to make sure that if I did anything, which I really wanted to, I wouldn't be expected to bond. If I were going to accept the Matrix, I didn't want to do so while bonded, I wasn't sure how it would effect the bond.

Wheeljack shrugs. "Not now but I won't say anything about later," he explains, making my spark calm. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, so you in?"

Smirking, I reach up and jerk his helm down to kiss him senseless. He catches himself with his servos on the ground but slowly eases down to return the affection. My glossa invades his mouth just as he opens up and I feel my way down his sides slowly. His armor was thick but my smaller fingers were able to slip between seams to touch sensitive nodes that made his engine rev loudly.

"You got a preference?"

* * *

><p>I had been feeling weird all day, since I woke up. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but there was something different. Maybe it was getting used to the bond with Ratchet but I couldn't help but feel like it was something more than that. Ratchet and I had been bonded for just under a month so I should be used to the feel of his spark. Being what I was, there still was no name for it, I was used to feeling extra sparks against mine but Ratchet's bond was different, more intimate.<p>

Laserbeak easily flew down to settle on my shoulder. I had been worried about her through this whole ordeal. What if Ratchet didn't accept her? I couldn't live without Laserbeak, after all, she was apart of my spark as well; she was pretty much like a sparkling that I had created on my own. Symbiotes and their masters had a bond that was both stronger and weaker than a normal spark-bond. She could hear my thoughts in a way that Ratchet couldn't. I could communicate through my processor with Laserbeak where I could only sent emotions through my bond with Ratchet. Laserbeak didn't have her own spark though; her spark was a part of mine.

I would never be able to explain my clan of Cybertronians because science had never explained what happened when we were born. My spark was constantly putting off enough energy that I could take a piece of it and place it into the body of a small symbiote, such as Laserbeak. So, in essence, she was just an extension of my spark. Ratchet had his own spark and I just had a small bit of it mixed into my own; he had a bit of me with him too.

It made me smile just thinking about it and Ratchet's warm emotions gushes into my spark in response. Extreme emotions were easier to feel and our bond wasn't so strong yet that we could feel the smallest of emotions yet. The more times you shared your spark with your partner, the stronger the bond became because more of you transferred into your lover's spark. I had, at one time, looked down on such a relationship because of the lack of privacy but…really, I still had my thoughts to myself. Besides, Laserbeak heard everything I thought, who was I one to be bothered by lack of privacy?

_You should go to Ratchet and let him give a check-up, _Laserbeak offers and I can't help but wonder if there was something wrong with me. Doubt and fear soaked my spark until Ratchet's spark responded with an emotional question.

I nod my helm, admitting my defeat and turn to Megatron. "Permission needed," I say in my monotone voice. Megatron turns to look at me with his bright red optics, quirking an optic ridge. "Objective: Check-up in Med-bay."

"Very well," he waves his servo to dismiss me.

With Laserbeak on my shoulder, I head to the med-bay where I know Ratchet will be waiting for me. I am unprepared for him to practically jump me as I walk through the door, his arms wrapping around me to pull me against his form. My faceplate heats as I notice Knockout in the med-bay with his spark-partner and Bulkhead. They chuckled at my expense even as I pushed at the CMO's shoulders, embarrassed.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he fires quickly, touching my shoulders then my chest, looking for injuries.

I grab his servos quickly with a hidden smile. _"I'm fine Ratchet, I'm just feeling a little…off today,"_ I explain through our comm.-link. He nodes his head and leads me to the backroom, ignoring the catcalls from the red mech in the room.

Laserbeak flutters over to sit on Ratchet's shoulder, rubbing her head against the mech's faceplate lightly. Ratchet chuckled and reached up to gently pet her helm. "Good to see you too Laserbeak," he smiles lightly. He had pretty much adopted her in the past month but it was only natural because he could feel her emotions through the bond as well. We were all connected in some way and it was nice to see them interacting with each other. "So what's wrong?"

I take my mask off, I never kept it on around him unless there were other people near, and set it down. "I'm not sure, I've just been…different today," I try to explain, smiling as he comes closer and strokes my faceplate tenderly. How could such a rough mech be so rude and disciplined with his other patients but be so loving to me? It made me smile. "I don't know…it's just…off."

"Alright," he says before tapping my spark-chamber. "Open up."

For a second, I was confused. This was not the time to do that but when I looked up at him, it clicked. I quickly opened my chamber and he let out the breath he had been holding and so did I as I saw the, not one, but two smaller lights orbiting mine. "Oh," I whisper, suddenly at a loss of what to say. "Ratchet…"

I was silenced by the look on his faceplate. It was some mixture between awe, fear and excitement and I was getting most of those from his spark too. "We're…going to be Creators," he breathes out in shock.

* * *

><p><strong>To Be Continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay! These past two weeks have been strange and hectic! Had a performance for a Master Class on Saturday at 11am that I practiced my butt off on! XD

Anyways, I needed a new perspective in this story so I decided to throw some Wheeljack (who is one of my favorite Prime characters) and some Hotrod, who I have no basis for other than Armada (and let's be honest, I got bored halfway through it), and G1 but I haven't had time to do my research that deeply! XD

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I appreciate all of your comments!

I hope you enjoyed it! Next part will be out soon because I have tomorrow off from school! XD


	9. Sparkling Treatise: Part Seven

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; MxSS; AraxAC; BDxBH; SlipxSwin; SkyxTC; WJxHR; PxJ; SidexSunny

Warnings: Language, violence, hinting at smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

* * *

><p>I touched my spark chamber for the thousandth time all day, smiling to myself. It felt nice to have those two other sparks swirling around my own. Now that I was completely aware of them and what they were, I could feel their pulsations through my own spark. It was comforting and beautiful to think that two tiny combinations of Ratchet and me were pressed tightly against my spark at this very moment. Their protoforms were being built right now in my reproduction chamber and even though I knew I'd never be able to feel it happening, I kept thinking there was shifting going on in my torso.<p>

Ratchet walked over to our berth with a cube of energon to hand it over. "Here, it's got the additives already in there," he smiles as I take the drink and down it. It didn't taste any different, honestly. He scoots up onto our berth beside me and there is silence for a few moments. It had been over a month since I had been pronounced carrying but we hadn't had much time to talk about it between everything that had been going on.

"I knew this would happen eventually," I speak up slowly, catching his attention. "But I'm still kind of shocked."

He laughs brightly, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Me too, it's just so…shocking!" he presses a servo against my chest gently. His optics were bright with happiness and it made my spark throb sweetly. "I never thought I'd ever Sire sparklings once the war started!"

I place my servo against his, pressing them against my chamber. His optics caught mine before he leaned forward to kiss me, slow and deliberate. It makes my metal tingle with pleasure as his servo slips up to hook around my helm, pulling me closer. Never, in my entire function, had I felt so loved and wanted by any other mech or femme. I took my mask off for him because I knew that he wouldn't tell anyone about my true appearance; I spoke to him because he was intelligent and caring. He could keep up with me unlike so many others and I found more than just a lover; he was my lover, my confident, my friend, my bond-mate…my life.

"I love you," he whispers gently when he pulls away.

My faceplate heats in embarrassment before I smile slowly. "I love you too," I answer, stroking his cheek. Had someone told me I would be getting…like this, all sentimental, with the CMO of the Autobots back at the beginning of the war, I would have destroyed them. But…my spark was telling me just how much I did love the medic.

_"Soundwave," _Laserbeak contacted me through our comm.-link.

"_Go ahead."_

_"Spacecraft passing through Earth's atmosphere now. I believe it belongs to the Autobots," _she predicts and I reach out to the satellites that I had long since taken over. The picture broadcast confirmed Laserbeak's guess. It was definitely of Autobot build and it was big enough for at least six Cybertronians.

"What is it?" Ratchet asks, feeling the shift in my emotions rather easily.

I quickly stood up and checked through my other satellites to delete and alter the incriminating images. It was a simple process that just took one copy and paste command. Megatron couldn't know or our entire plan would backfire. "It's starting," is the only thing I say but he understands.

It was time for us to push our plans into motion.

He gave me one last kiss before moving out of the room to do his part. I also had a job to do so I put my mask on and went to the first room from ours. Arcee jumped when I walked through the door but she relaxed when I held out a datapad. It had instructions from Ratchet on what to do when the ship came down; she had already been planting ideas in Arachnia's processor about Megatron's rule. Of course, Arachnia was the easy Sire to turn against Megatron; it was going to be a few of the others to get to revolt against the leader.

"I understand," she says, knowing what to do.

I exit the room without a word, like always and head towards the other Autobots. I had a datapad for each of them that would tell them the exact same thing that Arcee's said. All of the carrying Bearers would be put into the infirmary with me for protection against the fight that would soon be coming. Ratchet couldn't threaten any of the unborn sparklings and honestly, Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead were close to the popping. They were at the point where any kind of stress might make them go into a premature delivery.

I deliver all of them before going to see the two Seekers. Swindle and Slipstream would follow after whoever won so I wasn't worried about them. I walked up to the room and quietly hoped they wouldn't turn out more loyal than I had originally calculated. I was gambling my entire function on this hope that we could change the world.

My servo brushed across my spark-chamber. I was doing it for our twins; they couldn't thrive under Megatron's rule. I wouldn't let them grow up in a world where humans were enslaved. I didn't necessarily like humans but I definitely didn't believe in slavery; I had been in their place at one point and I hadn't forgotten my roots. Megatron had changed since we started this and I blamed it a little on the dark energon but there was something else. This war had driven him insane with power; he had long forgotten what we had started this war for.

The door opened before I could announce my arrival and I found myself faced with Thundercracker who leaned up against the frame with a small smirk on his faceplate. "Figured you'd be coming to see us soon," he comments casually before moving aside to let me by. He closes the door behind me and I find not only Skywarp there but also Starscream sitting on their large berth.

I was suddenly confused.

Skywarp was sitting next to the Second with his servo stroking the tense wings of his friend. I knew they had been very close before the war but I had never really seen it until now. They were comforting him about something and I felt anxiety slip into my spark. "We want in," Starscream finally states, his optics never leaving the floor.

I take the mask from my faceplate to place it in my subspace gently. Thundercracker and Skywarp gawked at me obviously. "Well, guess I know why Ratchet's been tolerable since fragging you," Skywarp smirks playfully, making my faceplate heat.

"Anyways," Thundercracker clears his intakes loudly, glaring at his lover. "We know you and Ratchet have been planning to overthrow Megatron and we want in."

"How did you know?" I ask deciding to speak informally with the seekers. I wasn't going to speak like I did with Megatron anymore; I wouldn't speak to my sparklings like that either.

The two seeker bond-mates chuckle lightly. "Really, Sound?" Skywarp teases. "We saw Ratchet when he met up with Wheeljack but we didn't say anything to Megatron because we wanted to see what would happen. Then you bonded with him and we knew you were in on it too."

Their logic was sound and I couldn't help but smirk at how much smarter the two were than I had ever thought they were. "Very well, let me explain what's happening," I say, pulling out my last datapad to hold it. It passed through my processor that they might be Megatron's spies, especially with Starscream there. "However, Starscream cannot know."

"What? Why not?" Skywarp jumps up, angry.

"He's bonded to Megatron," I state calmly, looking over at the seeker who is finally staring at me. "He cannot know. He shouldn't even be here."

"Sadly, he's right," Starscream speaks up, moving from the berth to touch Skywarp's shoulder. "I am fully behind your plan." He moves out of the room quickly, making the correct choice.

Thundercracker touches his mate's servo gently before I hand over the pad for him to take. He looked it over with his mate before looking up. "Well thought out, as usual, we're in."

* * *

><p>My job was to find the ship and make contact. Soundwave's spark was sending me constant updates through his emotional status and I wasn't shocked when Starscream decided to defect with us. It wasn't abnormal for me to see dents on Starscream while he was scurrying away to Thundercracker and Skywarp's room. I knew they took care of him and I hadn't expected Megatron to be a gentle lover but it seemed that Starscream didn't enjoy their…rough encounters.<p>

This was the last stage of our plan and if it worked out then Starscream could be with his true lovers and we could all be happy. That was if everything went according to the plan. Soundwave had come up with like seventeen different backup plans though so I hoped it would all work out. Our sparklings would never live under Megatron's rule. I wouldn't allow him to twist them into monsters; our sparklings would be raised properly.

It made me release a heavy bought of air from my vents. Soundwave was already sending me the coordinates to the location of the ship. I knew that my lover was scrambling my location and sending Laserbeak out with my signal to deter any peeping optics. I had been going out on drives almost every other day since my meeting with Wheeljack to make sure that it wasn't suspicious that I was doing so now. Everything had to be absolutely flawless to trick Megatron.

I arrived at the coordinates and smirked at the camouflage that Prowl and Jazz had set up for the ship before the hatch lowered to allow me entrance. As I figured, Prowl was waiting for me with his servos behind his back, a small smile on his lips. I transformed and walked forward to take his offered servo, shaking it heartily. It had been a long time since I had seen the Second-in-Command and he was a sight for my old optics, that was for sure.

"Ratchet, it's been quite some time," he offers up as I place my servo on his shoulder. He doesn't flinch away like he would with most Cybertronians but I was a medic and he trusted me completely.

"That is has, Prowl. I thought you were gone there for a while," I admit, watching that small devious glint twinkle in his optic. Most took Prowl for a humorless mech but I knew how he could get when he let his guard down and became a normal Cybertronian. He was full of life but it was a different type of life that one had to become accustomed to. "Here."

I hand over the datapad from my subspace and watch his optics rove over the surface, taking everything in, calculating every casualty, ever possible flaw, and I couldn't help but think he and Soundwave would get along great. They both calculated until I wanted to rip my own audio receptors out. Soundwave had made a thousand corrections and modifications to my plans since we had set about preparing the Decepticon leader's rout. I knew that Prowl would find nothing wrong with the plans; I had even made Soundwave put all of his calculations into this particular datapad so that Prowl would see the work put into the planning.

His optic ridges raise in appreciation and I smirk at the shock that registers in his optics. "This is…flawless," he finally admits, looking up at me curiously.

I hold up my servos. "Don't look at me! I had the original plan but my bond-mate fixed everything up to your standards," I smile, watching his optics flash at one particular word.

"Soundwave is your bond-mate?" he questions slowly.

My spark clenches but I hold back my anxiety; I knew there would be a lot of questions. I tried to tell myself I was ready for them. "Yes, he is," I say proudly. "He is also, as of a month ago, carrying."

Prowl doesn't even try to hide the shock that passes across his faceplate, a look that was rare for the calm Second. "Carrying? So he must be added to the list of carrying," he states before pausing in his adding of the information. He looks up. "Congratulations, Ratchet. I hope that this works so we can all move on with our lives."

"Me too, Prowl, me too," I admit sadly before we get down to business.

We spoke of the plan for quite some time before it came down to the part where Hotrod would be involved. "Is he ready?" I ask slowly. I knew that Hotrod wasn't too excited about being the next Prime, which, for someone so young, was to be expected. He was so young, naïve and I sometimes wondered at the Matrix's decision but then I remembered Optimus before he became a Prime. Orion Pax and Hotrod were alike in a lot of ways but different as well. I knew Hotrod would do well as a Prime but he had to be willing to try for it to work.

Prowl looks away from the datapad to sigh softly. "At first, no, he wasn't but…and I loathe to say this but Wheeljack as been a good influence on him," he admits and I know it kills him. They were so different, Wheeljack and Prowl, but I was shocked to hear that the ex-Wrecker and Hotrod had kicked it off so well. "Wheeljack took him out on an excursion and brought back a 'bot I could see as a great Prime."

My processor whirled with the information but I already knew what this meant. Wheeljack and Hotrod were probably already interfacing with each other but it would be good for the future Prime to have someone to lean back on when he took the Matrix. Usually, a mate would be chosen for the Prime by other Primes but I would much rather let Hotrod chose someone he trusted. It was nice to hear that Hotrod had someone competent to watch over him. Plus, Hotrod was a Bearer and Wheeljack was Sire so they could have sparklings in the future if they chose to do so.

"They'll be good for each other," I comment, watching the usually calm mech huff an agitated sigh.

"Yes, I know," he mumbles under his breath while going back to his pad. "Doesn't mean I have to like the mech."

I smile but I can tell that Prowl likes the thought of Hotrod meeting someone that could challenge him and let him grow. Hotrod was young and Wheeljack was experienced in more than just life; he knew the darker sides of life and he would have the strength to support Hotrod once he became a Prime. Their relationship would be competitive and constantly changing to keep both of them interested.

I couldn't have made a better match had I tried.

* * *

><p>Sirens wailed, loud and sharp, as our plans were set into motion. Megatron shouted at me to get all of the carriers on the ship into the med-bay, just as Soundwave said he would, and I was happy to find every one of them to hide them away. It was a simple enough plan that involved several key steps that, if taken out of order, would mean our failure. Step one was a go and I was happy to see Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Soundwave, Slipstream and Starscream all in the same room. The Autobots were all close to their due dates so they needed to be protected as much as possible. Starscream, Slipstream and Soundwave were getting bigger but their dates were a little further back so I wasn't too worried about them.<p>

I waited until most of the sound from the ship dimmed down. The ship had stayed landed since the war ended in a heavily forested area in the eastern United States so there was plenty of cover for the Autobots but all of the Vehicons and Eradicons were being deployed seeing as the Second- and Third-in-Command were both under lockdown. Blitzwing, Swindle and Megatron were the only officers we had to worry about and Prowl knew this fact very well. Knockout, Breakdown, Arachnia, Skywarp and Thundercracker were all in on the coup so they were faking most of the fighting.

The sounds dimmed down and I sent a comforting pulse to Soundwave before I crept to the door. "I'm going to go check on the battle," I make the excuse for Slipstream before I escape the room. The hallway was cleared so I turned to the right and went deeper into the ship until I came to the designated meeting place. It wasn't two minutes before a ground bridge portal opened and two mechs stepped through. Wheeljack had insisted on coming out with Hotrod and who was I to say no?

"Long time no see, Ratch," Wheeljack whispers as we slip into a vacant control room to hide. I heard a pede-steps pass by but it just a couple of Vehicons who were probably still recharging when the sirens went off. "Alright, lead the way to the Matrix."

I peek out the door before nodding and slinking through the hallways to the vault where Megatron kept his greatest triumphs. My shoulders eased as Soundwave reported that the med-bay was quiet and Megatron was very heavily involved in the battle. I opened the door and quickly rushed into the room with the two behind me; the door closed with a quiet hiss.

My optics landed on the middle podium that held the Matrix in a glass case. The door was heavily encrypted, by Soundwave, and it was nearly impenetrable unless you had all of the codes, which I did, so Megatron didn't bother locked it up any further. He never would have expected his Third, possibly his most loyal Decepticon, to betray him. It was sad that it came down to this but Megatron had to go.

I reached out and opened the case to gently grab the Matrix in my servo. It wasn't anything magnificent but its power hummed through my entire form as I turned to Hotrod. "Are you ready?" I ask softly, his optics fixed in awe on the thing in my servos. "And I mean really ready, Hotrod. If you don't want to do this-"

"No," he interrupts firmly. "I'm ready, Ratchet."

He opens his spark chamber and my optics have to reset at the sudden light that flared in the dark room. Wheeljack placed a servo on the young mech's shoulder as I walked forward to hold out the Matrix. The vibrations from the object grew stronger the closer I got to the mech and I felt myself wince in pain just before it flew from my servo to lock into Hotrod's spark. He jerked and yelped, falling back against Wheeljack's firm frame as the Matrix soaked into his spark.

His faceplate twisted with pain them settled into a look of utter calm that reminded me too much of Optimus. He had looked like that after accepting the Matrix. I guess it was a side effect of the knowledge that flowed through you, instantly educating you on everything that was and should be. His optics looked at the world in a new perspective and I saw the sadness well up in his faceplate even before he said anything.

"I can hear Optimus," he whispers softly and my spark clenches in pain. "He's right here."

I feel a sorrow so deep surge through me even before I felt the warmth from Soundwave cut through it. He encouraged me, poured his love into my spark, filling me with so much happiness I thought I might go into stasis lock. It overwhelmed my sadness and allowed me to think clearly. My optics gazed across the room before falling on another artifact that would do the new Prime good.

"You're going to need that," I tell the new Prime, watching as his optics shifted to fall on the object. He knew exactly what it was without even having to ask, walking over to touch the handle gently. It shank instantly to a size that he could handle, making Wheeljack and me jump in shock. Hotrod simply picked it up before turning to us, a look of determination on his faceplate. "Ready?"

He smirks confidently. "I'm more than ready."

We exited onto the battlefield in no time flat, meeting not a spark on the way out, to find that there were countless drones, dead or dying, on the battlefield. Knockout and Hook couldn't get to all of them before their sparks went out but they were trying, scrambling across the field without fear of getting hit. Well, Hook was probably shaking in his foundations but Knockout knew that he wasn't going to get hit.

All of the Autobots were still hidden in the forest, shooting from a distance until the Decepticons came past the tree line where their heavy hitters, Sunny and 'Sides would take them out. Thundercracker and Skywarp were in the air with the other Eradicons but they were faking really well, accompanied by vulgar threats and insults. Megatron was fuming just at the bottom of the platform, screaming commands even as Breakdown came out of the forest 'limping'. Knockout was by his side in a second even though he was fine.

The battlefield went silent as both sides spotted us walking out of the ship. Megatron was the last to turn but his optics widened the most when he spotted, first, me and then Hotrod with the Magnus Hammer. "Well, well," he sneers fiercely. "Revolting against me, Ratchet?"

"No, Megatron, we all are," I state as all of the Decepticon generals drop their weapons. Swindle and Blitzwing were nowhere to be seen but I was sure Prowl's team probably had them taken care of. Thundercracker and Skywarp landed on the ground with the Eradicons behind them, obviously confused but following their seeker leaders. Hook looked up at Knockout in amazed awe but didn't do anything as the medic held a blaster to his helm with that cocky smile. Breakdown got up off of the ground to stand beside Knockout. "We want a world where our Sparklings can live and thrive…that isn't under your current rule."

Megatron's smirk faded a small bit, staring at his betraying generals, before jerking his helm to look at me. "I am heavily out numbed, Ratchet, you wouldn't attack me in such an unfair fight, would you?" he mocks harshly.

"No, I won't," I say with an easy smirk.

"But I will," Hotrod states as he steps forward, hammer resting on his shoulder casually. "Optimus cared for you Megatron, he hoped that one day you would mend your ways and that we could all live in peace together. I don't give one scrap for you and have no such thoughts."

The Pit born warrior tilts his helm back and laughs harshly at the young mech. "Oh and you can destroy me where Optimus could not?" he sneers, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. "Optimus had centuries to fight with me and in the end he still lost. Why are you so confident, sparkling?"

Hotrod didn't see deterred at all. He moved forward with the grace and confidence of a Prime and it was in that instant I knew the Matrix had made the correct choice. Everything was falling right into place around us; I couldn't help but sent up a quick prayer to Primus, pleading for everything to turn out okay. I didn't want to imagine what would happen to those of us who turned against Megatron if he survived. Hotrod knew that the only way to stop Megatron was to extinguish his spark.

"I may not have the years that Optimus had…but I do have his wisdom," he comments with a smirk on his face. His hammer swung down away from his shoulder as he got closer to the leader, his stride easy and confident. All of us stood with held breath, waiting for the battle to begin.

Megatron's faceplate did waver at that comment and he should be afraid of Hotrod. Even though Optimus was defeated, Hotrod now knew all of Megatron's weakness, his strategies, his feints, and his dirty tricks. Hotrod definitely had the upper hand; Megatron didn't know anything about the new Prime. They had never fought against each other. Pit, they had probably never seen each other this close before! Megatron knew his position perfectly, as did Hotrod, as did everyone staring at the two beings.

"Let's get this over with, Megatron," Hotrod finally states as he spins his hammer around like it was a tiny stick.

Megatron grimaced before extending the blade on his forearm and charging the smaller mech. The instant he moved forward, I knew he was going to do everything in his power to take the Prime down in the first few minutes of the battle. He was out numbered, out gunned and at a disadvantage. It was unfair but, then again, that's how he had played this game since the very beginning; using every dirty trick in the book to try and cripple the Autobots. Now, it was time for some payback.

Hotrod blocked the attack easily with the staff of his hammer, shoving the much larger warrior back with a bodily shove. Not expecting it, Megatron was pushed back a few feet before Hotrod jumped at him, landing his pedes square in the spark-chamber. Megatron's balance was compromised but he was quick to regain it as Hotrod propelled himself off of the Decepticon and landed easily in a crouch a few feet away.

Megatron clenched his fists in frustration before baring the large cannon on his arm. The sound of the blast was deafening in the utter silence of the clearing as we all watched the fight in shock. Hotrod was doing…quite well, actually! I looked to Wheeljack who was smirking and I suddenly understood. It wasn't just the Matrix helping Hotrod, he had gotten an education recently on Wrecker fighting methods. I had seen Wheeljack fight a lot like this many times before so it was easy to see that the young warrior had taken adamant notes, per say.

Hotrod easily dodged the cannon, rushing in a circle around the huge warrior. Megatron wasn't an idiot and he smirked, firing just a few feet ahead of where Hotrod already was. The mech yelped as dirt was kicked up into his faceplate, the blast just barely missing him by a few inches. His optics fluttered to get the dirt out but Megatron was already on top of him by the time they flashed back on.

His gasp of pain was audible but Megatron's blade was diverted by the swung staff of the hammer so that it merely grazed the Prime's side. The smell of energon was already overpowering so I couldn't tell if he had been cut to a line but he quickly directed the momentum of his opponent to the side with his staff before ducking under the large mech's arm. Megatron tried to turn but was too slow to dodge the powerful swing of the hammer's head.

We all winced as it made contact with the side of Megatron's head. It was powerful enough to knock him to the side but he quickly caught his balance for the next swing, which made contact with his spark chamber. I heard the deafening crunch of metal, the roar of pain that Megatron let loose before we saw Hotrod jump at the downed mech.

Bad idea, I knew it even before the young Prime's pedes hit Megatron's spark-chamber. Large, clawed servos grabbed at Hotrod's thighs and proceeded to toss him off like he weighed absolutely nothing. The mech's scream was loud in the clearing but he made sure to at least gather himself to his pedes as soon as he landed, using the momentum of the toss to right himself.

Megatron stood up slowly, his faceplate dented so badly his left optic was destroyed and his spark chamber was dented but not enough to put the spark in any danger. Had Hotrod had the strength of Breakdown or Bulkhead, that probably would have been a killing shot. Too bad Megatron was still moving and looked more pissed than I had ever seen him before. He panted, energon dripping from his damaged faceplate before he started at the other warrior quickly.

It was sad to see such an amazing warrior and tactician, a brilliant mind, wasted like Megatron's but Hotrod had him on his last leg. Megatron had lost. It just seemed so anti-climactic that it should be against Hotrod and not with Optimus and that it should last so short a time. But, nonetheless, we all watched as Hotrod proceeded to pummel Megatron with his hammer, the sound reverberating through the clearing at a deafening decibel.

Then, he was down. I winced as his body made a loud noise as it tumbled forward to lie face-first in the dirt. Where I should feel happiness that the evil, cunning Dictator was dying…I could only feel pity. He would have made a great leader, did make a great leader at one point, but power got the best of him.

Hotrod stood next to the downed mech and flipped him over gently. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, Megatronus," Hotrod said for everyone to hear and I knew it was Optimus speaking out from the Matrix.

Megatron's only good optic stared up at Hotrod for a few moments before he shuttered it and Hotrod drove the sharpened end of the hammer straight down into his spark. He felt nothing, for that I was happy, and died instantaneously.

It was completely silent for a long time before Hotrod looked up at me and I nodded my head. "It's over," he whispers more to himself than to the rest of us.

I walk over and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's over."

* * *

><p>The next couple of days were awkward, at best. It was hard to see the Ark parked right up against the Nemesis and I felt really weird about walking around the Nemesis like it was normal but I knew this was what Optimus would have wanted. Sunny and I were adjusting to seeing Decepticon sigils working along side Autobots but it seemed to fit…somehow. Hotrod had already changed his name, like the law dictated, to Rodimus Prime (completely Wheeljack's idea I'm sure), and was leading both groups in a compromise with the humans.<p>

There were a lot of rules that went along with humans and I was a little nervous to be around them in bipedal form. I was afraid I'd squish one, honestly! You don't know where they are until they scream out at you! It's just weird and there had been about a dozen that had been frequent visitors to us. There were three kids, one of their mothers, an Agent Fowler guy and some people from different governments on Earth visiting. I just stayed in my alt-mode whenever any of the adults were around. The kids like to encourage all the 'bots and 'cons to walk around in their normal forms so I guess it was just normal for them.

Either way, Sunny was fitting in quite nicely with the 'cons, especially Skywarp and Knockout. He wasn't one to play well with others so I worried that he might be a little harder to get set but he mixed in really well, come to find out. In fact, he and Skywarp had become spar buddies while Knockout was helping us with some really great pranks as soon as everything was situated. Ratchet had ordered us to keep it cool until the Treaty-thing was signed but whatever. I was looking forward to pranking Prowl again.

"'Sides!" I heard an all-too familiar voice called out from behind. I looked away from the ledge where I was standing, watching the human children play with their carrying guardians. It was sickeningly cute to see the humans marveling over the bulging abdomens and the extra sparks. "Hey…what are you doing?" He was looking between me and the odd sight, sending me emotions of mock teasing. "You growing soft on me?"

I laugh brightly as he steps forward to pin me against the railing. His servos placed themselves against the banister right beside my hips and he leaned forward to kiss me. It was full of promises and I instantly knew he was about to say something that he needed to butter me up for. I push him away so that I can get some air. "What do you want?" I say suspiciously, narrowing my optics at the bright sunburst racer.

He gets that (fake) innocent look on his faceplate, running his fingers across my sensitive hip joint playfully. "What?" he asks, trying to look naïve and harmless. "I can't enjoy my bond-mate's presence?"

I shove at his shoulders to get a bit more room between the two of us. "Not when you've got that look on your face!" I chuckle, smacking his wandering servo that was getting too close to my interface panel. "What is it?"

He vents some air dramatically, a mannerism he had picked up from the humans (I think it was called sighing?), before surrendering. His face twisted into one of devious satisfaction that made my energon run hot; I loved it when he made that face. "I want to show you something," he nearly whispers, effectively lighting my circuits on fire.

He was up to something…and I had a feeling I was going to like it…a lot. His servo wrapped around mine to tug me back into the Nemesis but instead of going deeper inside, he went toward the exit. Curiosity perked, I followed after him quickly. Where were we-the med-bay? I was confused until he placed a finger to his lips and opened the silent door. We peeked around the door and he pointed at the back of someone.

I could see dark neutral colors that didn't draw the attention, especially of someone like Sunny who was all about obnoxious colors, but then I looked closer. He was a little smaller than Sunny and me but his shoulders were pretty broad when compared to his slender, sexy hips and rounded aft with long, artistically carved legs. His arms were slender but his fingers looked like they could slip under seams in just the right way.

I looked over at Sunny with my own smirk on my lips.

* * *

><p>Standing all alone in my med-bay was where would prefer to be, honestly. I was glad when my med-bay duty was alone instead of with Ratchet who wasn't much company anyways or, Pit forbid, Knockout. If I had to hear another story about him fragging the bug I was going to rip my own audio receptors out. I was happy just the way I was. Besides, there wasn't a single 'bot or 'con in this entire group as competent as me in what I did. The fact that Ratchet got the CMO position because of years slagged me off but I was over it.<p>

Thankfully, all of the damaged drones had long since been fixed so I was left to my own devices, which I spent reading up on the human world. It was interesting, their medicine, and I enjoyed reading up on the newest procedures and how they were fragging it up. It was quiet and peaceful, just the way I liked it.

Needless to say, I was shocked when two mechs came up on either side of me. Sunstreaker, a bastard of a prankster with the brightest yellows and oranges possible, was to my right, leaned up against the table and his twin, Sideswipe, a bright red mech, was to my left mirroring his brother. They were infamous warriors and cunning tricksters that were merciless in everything they did. Why would they be in here…with me?

I placed a hand to my spark chamber as my spark pounded in my surprise. "Can I help the two of you?" I ask, trying to look down upon them. It was kind of hard when they were both about a helm taller than I was and much bulkier for that matter. Don't get me wrong, they were still racers and were sleek for speed but their shoulders were heavily armored with weapon after weapon and their legs were a bit heavier. I felt dwarfed in between them and I didn't like feeling cornered.

Sunstreaker is the first to respond by getting even closer, into my personal field. "'Sides and I were just walking by and realized that Sideswipe hasn't had a check-up in a long time," he rasps in a vocalizer that was much deeper than I had ever expected from him. It resonated through my spark chamber, vibrating in a pleasant way that had me growing tense.

"Well, we thought we'd come in to see a grouchy old mech but instead, low and behold, we find this sexy, sleek nurse mech," Sideswipe continues from the other side, getting just as close as his twin.

"I am not a nurse!" I snap, turning around to walk away. They are quick to block my path, quite easily too. They placed one servo on the table behind me and they were almost touching each other, effectively trapping me in place. "Move, now!" I didn't have the time or patience for this.

Sunstreaker looks at his twin before smirking deviously down at me. "No."

Simple enough, I guess. "What do you two want?" I sigh deeply, glaring at the two.

Sideswipe answered me this time. "We just told you, I need my check-up," he says as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Check-ups are only for Bearers," I huff irritated. They were wasting my time.

The brighter of the twins laughs lightly, mockingly. "'Sides is a Bearer."

Well now, I hadn't expected that! The way they were talking Sunstreaker must be a Sire, which was odd. I would have thought twins would be born the same orientation, I guess not. "Alright then," I say slowly, feeling like this was some kind of trap or prank. I gesture towards the backroom hesitantly; I couldn't do this check-up in the open because of privacy but…did I really want to be locked in a soundproof room with these two?

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker lead me into the backroom where I helped Sideswipe up onto the berth to get him situated in the stir-ups. His twin stood behind me as I sat down on the chair at the end of the table, faced with Sideswipe's interface panel. I went through the motions like always but this time I figured that they would do something to prank me or trick me into something.

Sideswipe answered all of my questions honestly and I shoved my anxiety down when I leaned forward to check the seal on his interface panel hesitantly. I had done this plenty of times but something about this seemed more…intimate? It was also strange to have someone watch me do this procedure. Sunstreaker was leaned against the wall to the side of me so that I could see his bright form in my peripheral but it still made me nervous. He was far out of reaching distance though.

"You will probably feel some discomfort," I advise like normal as I manually open his interface panel. He stays completely still but I can feel the heat coming from his valve as I heat my servos to kill any bacteria. I reach forward to test the rim of his valve, stretching it just a bit here or there. I wasn't surprised to hear a small intake of air from the mech just before his valve started to lubricate itself.

Normally, this wouldn't bother me, but as I looked up I was struck by the sight. I couldn't help but admit that Sideswipe was gorgeous, Pit, his brother was gorgeous too! My gestalt had been my lovers before they had all been destroyed and they had all been dark neutral colors like me so I never thought I'd fine two mechs as flashy as the two of them attractive. Instead, I found myself in awe at the twins.

I rush through the rest of the check-up to get away from the two mechs. Once finished, I stand up to wash my servos. "Everything looks good," I say softly as I run water to wash up. It didn't surprise me when a form pressed in beside me.

"Thanks, Doc," Sunstreaker comments, running his optics down my form in appreciation before leaning his back against the counter. "'Sides and I were thinking about breaking out some high-grade later on tonight to celebrate this new Treaty-thing, you want to join? It's the least we could do for you…thorough work."

His voice had a twinge of seduction in it that made my metal tingle pleasantly. I couldn't help but think his vocalizer was smooth like good high-grade but I pushed the thought aside. I had to decline. There was no way I could do something like that with them. The Treaty wasn't signed yet and I had work to do…liar. Truth be told, it'd be nice to indulge in some high-grade and relax for a while. Besides, what had I done recently for me?

I vent air from my body slowly. "Very well then," I say, looking up at the mech as I dry my servos. Sideswipe moved over to join us, a strange, unnerving smile on his faceplate as well.

"Awesome," Sunstreaker smirks, using a slang term from the humans, I'm sure. "You know where our room is, right? Whenever you get off work is fine." He leans forward to brush his lips across my audio receptor suddenly. "We'll be waiting for you." I flushed hot as the two walked out with merely a wave from each, leaving me to ease my overheating sensors alone.

What had I gotten myself into?

* * *

><p><strong>To be Continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Shoo, this story has been longer than I ever wanted it to be! XD But I love it and I don't want it to end just as much as some of you who read it!

Anyways, I had to put some Lambo in there! :D HookxLambo = Happiness...I don't know why, honestly! I have so many crack pairings in here you can't keep track of them! XD

The next part will be an Epilogue/Wrap up loose ends, kind of thing and I'll probably have some smut in it! I know the past few haven't had much sexiness in it so I'll try to add some spice in the next chapter!

Alright, well, thanks for everyone who reviewed! I love hearing from you, always!

Oh! Side note! My first story of this series _You Know What I Want?_ won third place in a competition on DeviantArt! I just thought I'd brag a little! XD

I hope you enjoy!


	10. Sparkling Treatise: Part Eight

**Sparkling Treatise**

Universe: Prime

Rating:MA+

Pairings: RxSW; KOxBB; AraxAC; BDxBH; SlipxSwin; SkyxSSxTC; WJxHR; PxJ; SidexHookxSunny; PerxBW

Warnings: Smut.

Description: After a long war, the Autobots have lost their Prime and Earth to the Decepticons. Now the captives aboard the Nemisis, Ratchet finds that Megatron doesn't actually want to waste the lives of his team. Instead, they are paired off with Generals to repopulate "New Cybertron". Disaster waiting to happen? Or will the bonding of the two factions actually create a new world worth living on?

* * *

><p>I watched as the human added his final signature to the document that would end the war between the Decepticons and the Autobots for good. Humans were no longer slaves and I was happy to report that Raf, Jack, Miko, June, and Agent Fowler (who had been ordered underground by the government) were all in attendance. Hotrod, well, Rodimus Prime's signature was there right next to Starscream's, seeing as he was the new leader of the Decepticons and finally the head of the United Nation's signature went right underneath. It was good to see all three factions working together towards a new peace and the humans were happy to accommodate us, or at least, some of them. There were still a few groups who were opposed to us being here but the United Nations had spoken and I was pretty sure it was because of the assets we could offer them.<p>

Rodimus held up the paper once it was signed by the required persons. We had deemed it the Sparkling Treatise for the sole reason that the peace had been for our future Cybertronians. The humans had been swayed because of the prospect of our carrying mechs and femmes; it seemed that humans were softies when it came down to children, like all sentient beings. I just wished Optimus could be here to see our success but I knew it had been partly from his defeat that peace had been acquired and he would have wanted it this way.

Once the signing was done, the leaders remained to speak while I went over to my lover who had stood behind Starscream, he was the new Second after all. My servo was gentle as rubbed his midsection gently where the growing reproduction chamber was pressing out. He smiled, having given up his mask for everything but business when he needed to pull things up on the smalls screen. He still had his red optics and I still had my blue, we had all decided to keep our sigils as a constant reminder of what we went through.

"Doing okay?" I ask, kissing his cheek lightly.

"Yeah, my pedes hurt though," he chuckles, leaning on me as I walk him towards our room. "No, let's go outside." I look at him curiously before changing direction, slowly, so that he could keep up. Soundwave had been walking slower recently but with twin protoforms growing in his chamber it was no wonder. All of the others hadn't had as hard a time as Soundwave but he had never looked more beautiful than he did now. He practically glowed with a Bearer's pride and it made me beam.

We walked out into the bright sunlight to the sounds of squealing sparklings and it made my spark warm. The human children were already out here playing with the sparklings, which was no surprise; they had pretty much helped raise their guardians' sparklings since they were born.

Jack was with Arcee's little femme, Microspark, who was a dark purple like her Sire with bright blue optics and a very slender form. She was probably going to be a two-wheeler like her Bearer but for the moment she was just an awkward little protoform with barely any armor on her form. Sparklings were born with the capability to walk and speak but it was putting the legs to the movement and the words in the correct order that proved difficult. Jack was holding her servo, walking her about so that she could get the hang of her legs while holding a conversation with her. Arcee and Arachnia stood at a distance, watching, but letting him help her along.

Miko was reading a comic book to Bulkhead's tiny, almost newborn, mech, Titan. He had been born a little early but he was as healthy as his Creators and he squealed as Miko used her wild personality to give the characters personality. Titan was a lot more talkative than the other sparklings but I just had to look at his Creators to know he would be just that.

I jumped when Bumblebee's sparkling rushed by with a toy jet, made out of spare metal by Wheel jack, to fit the sparkling. The mech, Glider, was a servo-full and a half. He was quick to pick up walking and it seemed that he was constantly on the move; he stopped only for quick refuels then he was off again. It was easy to see that he was going to be a speed demon like his Creators but for some reason he was the more quiet of the three sparklings. Unless, that is, he was around Raf who was chasing after him with another little jet made for his own hands. The two had bonded almost instantaneously and it was easy to see that they were going to grow up as brothers.

Helping Soundwave sit down, the other Creators came over to stand or sit around us. We didn't have to say anything; everything was perfect. I still worried, I would always worry, about some of the others in the group but everyone seemed to be doing just fine. Starscream had been taken back into his Trine after Megatron's defeat and seemed happier than I had ever seen him. He was the next due for labor and I was a little worried that the breaking of his bond with Megatron would deal some damage to the sparkling. That was probably why the birth was so much later than the others but everything seemed normal at his last check-up.

Sunny and 'Sides had taken a strange liking to Hook, surprisingly. I had just expected the bonded twins to just stay that way but, oddly enough, they had taken Hook into their relationship quite eagerly. They had been together quite a lot and sometimes I'd even go into the med-bay to relieve him of duty to find the twins in there chatting with him. They had yet to bond with the medic but I could sense it coming on, soon. I wasn't complaining, Hook's mood had been a thousand times better since the twins took interest in him.

Jazz had been talking about sparklings with me so I was pretty sure he'd be the next carrying Bearer with his bond-partner, Prowl. Slipstream was due any day now just as Starscream was and Swindle had taken nicely to being her Sire. He had also become our public relations 'con; he was pretty good at it if you convinced him not to, well, swindle anyone.

Wheeljack and Rodimus had become even closer since the war officially ended and their budding relationship was beautiful. They balanced each other out, just as I knew they would. If they hadn't bonded yet, they would. I expected sparklings from those two but not in the near future; they just didn't seem like the type that would want sparklings so soon after the end of the war.

Probably the strangest couple I had seen so far had to be Blitzwing's newfound fascination with Perceptor. I was a little anxious about those two but Perceptor was smart and fiesty. Honestly, I think it was the spunk in the little scientist that drew the triple-charger to him; the first time the hulking charger had made a joke at Perceptor, the scientist had put him in his place. After that, Blitzwing had been pursuing our resident scientist, even helping out with heavy lifting in the lab when he could.

I couldn't help but think they were an odd pair but if they worked, they worked. Who was I to judge? I never thought my relationship would work and here I was with my carrying Bearer, enjoying the sun and the day. I didn't have to worry about attacks or battles; I didn't have to worry about anyone coming into my med-bay because of war-related injuries. We were sure to have more Autobots and Decepticons joining us in the future once they got the message about the peace Treatise. No one had a number of how many Cybertronians actually survived but there were more out there.

"Ratchet!" I heard someone scream just before looking up to see Skywarp hovering overhead. "Starscream's going into labor!"

"Alright," I say as I jump up to rush back into the ship. "Bring him to the med-bay if you can!"

A few hours later, Starscream had a seekerlet in his arms. Thundercracker and Skywarp were there with him as I cleaned my hands. The little seeker's wings were dark with a few red strips here or there and his optics were a deep red. "You have a name for him yet?" I ask, taking a datapad to pull up the birth certificates for the sparkling's information.

Starscream nods his head slowly. "Blacklight," he whispers.

* * *

><p>Cradling the small, recharging seekerlet, I couldn't help but let the smile cross my faceplate. He wasn't mine, I wasn't the Sire that created him but…looking at him, I felt a deep love for the small thing's Bearer. I could see his influence in the sparkling through the sleek design and slender wings with a metallic tint that shines in the dim lighting. Sharp faceplate, red highlights, elevated foundations and a pair of brightly red optics completed the look.<p>

Honestly, I saw more of Starscream than Megatron in the little creature. I rocked my arms back and forth as he wiggled in his slumber before going back into recharge quickly. His soft sigh was like a catalyst that made my spark warm sweetly. This sparkling belonged to the Trine; he would never know of his true Sire, if I had anything to say about the matter. Megatron's callous, cruel treatment of Starscream was unforgivable; the spark-rape of my lover would never be spoken of again.

"He finally recharging?" I heard a soft voice say from the door to the nursery. My red optics shifted to take in the new Creator as he struts into the room. Even with all that had happened to him, he still pranced around like a prim bird.

"Yeah," I say, gently settling the small seeker onto his berth. I put the sides up to keep the mech in so that he didn't fall out onto the floor during the night. Starscream ran a slow servo down the sparkling's cheek before standing straight. "You doing okay?"

He turns his glowing optics to me, staring. I freeze when he leans into my form allowing me a moment to wrap my arm around his shoulder. Pulling him closer for the first time in centuries felt better than stepping out into warm sunlight after years in space. His faceplate presses against my neck as I hug him tightly, keeping him where he is for a few moments longer. I knew he was feeling the effects of the broken bond with Megatron even if the bonding was forced.

His arms wrap around my back, returning the gesture. Skywarp was out getting a night fly in but he reveled in the experience just as much as I did through our bond. "I'm better," he finally admits, squeezing me desperately.

"We missed you," I whisper to him softly, stroking my large servo down his back soothingly. He relaxes into my grip just as he did back when we used to be a Trine. His servos clench against my wings but I refuse to let go; I wouldn't let him escape this time. "I'm sorry, Screamer."

I hear his soft chuckle at the nickname before he is pulling back just enough to look at my faceplate. His servos moved to rest on my shoulders, running across the metal gently. I savored the beautiful attention, the beautiful seeker, and the fact that I could be here to enjoy it. "I missed you too," he answers and I know he means both of us. "All I could think about while—"

Leaning forward, I silence him with my lips, stealing the words right from his mouth. All of the released tension escaped from his body and he slumped against my form, tired of bearing that load alone. I hold him closer; feel him, every inch of him. He was a long lost lover that I had pined for every second of every year we had been away from each other. Skywarp would never agree with me out loud but he felt the same way; he pumped it through our bond so that he could feel the kiss vicariously through me.

I pull away, venting air, as he stares up at me in shock. "You don't have to explain your situation to me, Starscream," I tell him softly, stroking his back. "I have felt every second of your abuse since we got back."

His optics haze over in relief, he had come to us after Megatron was done with him so we had seen what had happened. Skywarp and I were distraught that there was nothing we could do until Soundwave and Ratchet had come up with their plan. Starscream knew of it almost instantly; he joined in once we convinced him that Megatron was a bad bond-partner for him and for their sparkling.

Deft fingers trailed across my wings slowly, deliberately. I let a shudder rush down my form at the attention, never letting his optics leave mine. He slipped forward to press his hips against mine, leaning up to try and match my impressive height. This was the Starscream I remembered before Megatron's claws had gotten into him, devious and cunning. He was a lot smarter than most gave him credit for, a little dramatic but slagging bright.

He leans forward to run his glossa across my audio receptor lazily. "I've missed what the two of you do to me here," he bucked his hips against mine, raking our interface panels together. I let a gasp leave my lips just as he is gets a tighter grasp on my wings, just enough to add a bit of pain to the mix.

Skywarp was having a field day through our bond, he was both jealous and ecstatic. "Perhaps we should…" I pause, looking down at the recharging sparkling. "Relocate." The devious grin made my spark tighten involuntarily in copious amounts of pleasure. Giving my own smirk, I reach down to pull his lissome legs up around my waist, walking him out of the nursery.

Our berth was big enough for a Trine to sleep on easily, which was normal for seekers who looked to more than one lover to find comfort. I was just setting the seeker down when the door behind us opened to reveal a panting Skywarp. I could feel his arousal through our bond and knew he booked it to get here before anything started between the two of us.

He locked the door behind him before moving over to get between Starscream and myself. I didn't mind because Skywarp wasn't one to be docile, which was why I had bonded with him in the first place. His servos eagerly grabbed the smaller seeker so that he could get his own kiss in. Where mine had been slow and methodical, his was passionate, harsh and dominating, which Starscream didn't seem to mind if the moan was any indication. I watched the for a few moments, enjoying the sight of my Trine-mates delight in each other until I couldn't help but step forward to run my lips across Skywarp's left wing tip.

His moan broke the kiss giving Starscream a chance to vent some air into his overheating systems. Something about seeing Starscream leaned back against his servos on the berth with Skywarp in-between his legs made my ping that I was ready for interface, already. I could feel that Skywarp was just as revved up but I couldn't be certain with the other seeker.

Skywarp, never one for subtly, ran his servo down the panting seeker's interface panel slowly. His voice was a soft whisper that made my engine hum appreciatively. "Frag, Starscream, you've got me and Thundercracker all revved up," he teases, running a glossa across an audio receptor. "All we want to do is frag the sense out of you."

His words made my body shudder but I saw a mirror effect in Starscream just before I heard the click of his panel. "Please, Skywarp," he begs, spreading his delicious legs even wider. My bond-partner wasted no time in pressing a finger into the offered valve causing Starscream to throw his helm back and whimper sweetly.

"Get behind him," the seeker nearly commands and I don't have the processor space to argue with him. I move myself to sit behind the moaning Bearer who leans back against my chest for support. Captivated, I watch as Skywarp thrusts his fingers into the valve and I have to distract myself by licking across the wings offered to me.

A small scream was the greatest gift. He pressed back into my lips while Skywarp presses a second finger into the valve, stretching the seeker out pleasantly. To take my spike, he was going to need preparation and that wasn't bragging, it was fact.

"Flip over," Skywarp commanded. Starscream worked to do just that and my panel clicked open on its own when I saw the outcome. The slender, beautiful mech was on his servos and knees, aft in the air, staring up at me, with Skywarp behind him…it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. "Like that, big guy?"

I didn't even have the coherency to make a snappy comeback before I felt a glossa running up my spike. Everything in my processor was wiped clean as I leaned against the wall in utter bliss. Starscream's fingers wrapped around the base of my shaft to stroke gently, his mouth lowering until he was sucking the tip. My moan was nearly desperate as he tightened his grip in response to Skywarp's glossa pressing into the seeker's valve.

My servo dropped to rest on the mech's helm, encouraging him with gently touches. I was so wound up I had to stop him when I started to get close, pulling him up to kiss him senseless. His moans were lost in my mouth and I could feel his body heating up as Skywarp pressed three fingers into the valve. His servos clung to my shoulders, allowing me to see how hard Skywarp was thrusting.

It didn't take long before Starscream was crying out in utter bliss when his first overload washed across his body. I held him in his post-overload spasms, kissing his neck until I just couldn't handle it anymore. Skywarp laid down across the berth as I resituated Starscream slouched against me to set on his servos and knees in between the lying mech.

My spike twitched as I got a good look at his dripping valve before I palmed his aft gently. "Ready?" I whisper, running my lips down the mech's back.

"Primus, yes!" he pleads just before I press into his tight valve. His voice is liquid fire that rushes across my entire form as I roll my hips to seat myself in his tight valve. "T-Thundercracker!"

I give a small thrust before I feel him ease around my spike and I start slowly rocking in and out of him. His moans fill our room before Skywarp is grinding his valve against the mech's spike teasingly. "Come on, Screamer," he rasps seductively, wrapping his legs around the slender mech's waist. "Spike me."

Starscream angles himself before thrusting into the bottom seeker's valve mercilessly. Skywarp wasn't one for foreplay most of the time and Starscream knew this; the stretch was foreplay for the purple mech. He grabbed a hold of Starscream's shoulders and arched his back. I felt the valve around me clench in pleasure sending me back into my slow pull and push.

This time, my motions caused Starscream to follow suit and soon we were all in a rhythm that filled the room with a chorus of beautiful sounds. Skywarp was begging for dirty things; Starscream was nearly screaming with pleasure; and all I could do was grunt and moan in bliss. My hips slammed forward as I picked up the tempo until we were all peaking our thrusts turning shallow and jerking.

Reaching down, I had the consciousness to grab hold of Skywarp's spike before he finally overloaded into my servo as a result. Then Starscream let go with a high pitched cry that would annoy a normal mech; to me, it was music. His valve clenched almost painfully around my spike and I couldn't help but overload as the energy coursed through all of us powerfully. It was the first time I could remember an overload being so intense.

We all collapsed in a line with me next to the wall, Starscream in the middle and Skywarp on the outside, exhausted. I felt myself slowly shutting down to recharge even as Starscream eased back to press his lithe form against mine with his arm wrapped around the purple mech. No words were needed because we all knew exactly what the others were thinking. I could feel their pleasure either through bond or through intuition and that was enough for me. I wasn't much for talking anyways.

* * *

><p>I didn't get back to our room until night had fallen but he was waiting for me, sitting in his servo-made chair, reading with Laserbeak on his shoulder. The sight made my tension filled shoulders slouch even before he looked up from his datapad to smile at me. I slowly made my way over to slip down to my knees, pressing between his legs to lay my helm against his engorged abdomen. He set the datapad to the side and stroked my helm gently as I listened to the movement from the two protoforms below the surface.<p>

"Everything go well?" he asks after a few moments of silence. I can't help but smile as I hear one of the twins kick the chamber lightly. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Yeah, mech seeker," I answer softly, rubbing the protected chamber with my servo. "Named him Blacklight."

I don't even have to look at him to know he's smiling. "What a nice name," he whispers more to himself than to me but it resonates through his entire form. "We should probably start thinking up names for our twins."

Our twins…what a nice pair of words. I chuckle lightly before sitting back on my pedes, still stroking his abdomen lightly. "Got any ideas?" I ask, taking his servo.

I could tell that he did, through the bond and from the look on his faceplate. "I thought…possibly…" he hesitates. It wasn't like him to hesitate. Tilting my head, I urged him on. "I had twin symbiotes at one time."

Curiousity peaked, I sat back on the floor to listen, giving him my full attention. "What happened to them?" I whisper gently.

He takes a gulp of air before leaning back, relaxing. "They were killed in a recon mission," he explains, petting Laserbeak. "I sent them out to spy on a camp of Autobots and it turned out to be a deserted camp full of insecticons." He stood up and crossed the room to the little side table next to the door that I had noticed the first time I walked in here. He picked up the two scraps of metal, one with red paint and the other with a Decepticon sigil on it. "This was the only thing I found of Rumble and Frenzy."

Standing, I walked over to touch his faceplate. "Those are beautiful names," I smile before kissing his lips tenderly. "I think they would fit our twins perfectly."

His smile was brilliant and it was in that instant that I knew everything was going to be just fine.

And a mere three days later, I was standing in the med-bay with my two beautiful sparklings in my arms. One was a mech flier, like his Bearer, and the other a femme grounder. We hadn't expected a femme but we named her Frenzy all the same and she had bright reds and whites with luminescent blue optics. Her brother, Rumble, was beautiful shades of purple and black with bright red optics. They were both crying as I set them in their Bearer's arms, watching as the red optics of my lover soften at the sight of our sparklings.

"They're…beautiful," I breathe softly, leaning down to kiss the tired Bearer's forehead.

He smiled up at me. "They are."

Had I known, years ago, that we could end the war with the bonding of the two factions, I would have encouraged it. Through that smile, the one smile that my lover gave me, I knew that I could live happy in this new world. I still mourned the loss of my oldest and greatest friend but I knew he would be content to see me enjoying this moment. I wish he could be with me but I was grateful for what I had.

I smiled when I heard sparklings squeal through the hallway outside the door and I couldn't help but think that this was the perfect life. Finally, peace and harmony was among us. Finally, I could live in a world without worrying about the next battle. All I wanted to do was be the best Creator I could to my son and my daughter.

"I love you, Ratchet," Soundwave whispers gently, kissing my cheek.

Yes, this was perfect.

"I love you too, Soundwave."

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

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><p>AN: Alright, that's it for Sparkling Treatise! I hope you all enjoyed the ending!

Shoo, that was a lot! Totally didn't mean for it to be that long but I liked the way it ended!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate all of the input!

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><p><strong>Next Pairing<strong>

RatchetxKnockout

(Some doc on doc action! ;D)


	11. Embrace the Instinct: Part One

**Embrace the Instinct**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxKnockout

Rating: R

Warnings: Smut. Dark topics. Don't like, don't read.

Description: Set after "Stronger, Faster..." when Knockout realizes that the Autobot medic looks awfully familiar. Then, it hits him, Ratchet was his instructor back in medical school. Memories turn into a plot of revenge wrought with sexual deviance.

* * *

><p><strong>Embrace the Instinct<br>**_Part One_

* * *

><p>I didn't recognize him at first.<p>

When he was lying on the ground in that cave, pouring unnatural green energon from the wound on his chest, I thought he looked familiar but I couldn't remember. Then, hours after it had happened, it hit me. He was my Anatomy 101 instructor back on Cybertron in medical school! The doctor must be getting up there in age because he was quite the old model even in that time period when I walked in as a fresh, young processor just waiting to be molded.

Ah, I can remember the first time I saw him.

Sitting there, waiting for class to start, I was nervous, very nervous. This wasn't my side of the city. My Creators were both born into the Pits where they worked as manual labor in construction where their wings were put to good use. They never expected their sparkling to be born of a higher intelligence so they did everything they could to send me to a good school where I would get a good education. It was their way of elevating me out of the Pits so that I would never end up like them or worse a Gladiator.

Me? Can you possibly see me, and all my beautiful glory, in a dirty arena with nasty beasts?

Anyways, not the point.

So there I was, my first day of medical school, sitting in a room full of upper-class snobs. They could tell I didn't belong there; they could see that there was something different about me even if I looked just like they did. All of the students here were born of wealthy Creators, most of whom were medical personnel, politicians or law-bots. It was a shock that I was here to begin with but I had gotten a very prestigious scholarship that paid for everything, otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here.

Everyone was talking, chatting away about absolutely nothing. I could hear two grounders talking about some political debate, which one of their Creator's had taken part in; another group of femme two-wheelers were talking about the professor in hushed tones, as if no one could hear them squeal about the mech. I sat alone, like usual in my schooling, allowing myself to ignore the useless chatter and check my pointed, slender fingers for nonexistent dirt. They were pristine, of course.

It was at that moment that the door swished open to allow a bulky mech into the room. I didn't pay much attention seeing as I was at the very top of the tiered desks, my elbows resting on the surface casually. I could see red and white in my peripheral vision but other than that, he didn't catch my attention.

It wasn't until he spoke that I looked up.

"Alright, class, get out your textbooks and turn to page one. We'll be spending the class period on…" I didn't hear what else he said as I jerked my head up at his deep, resonating vocalizer. It carried through the entire room without any need of artificial amplification and was rough but sensual all at the same time. Sure, most would think it harsh and ugly but there was something…underneath the roughness that captivated me.

I quickly turned to page one and pulled out my datapad as he started into the class material, hard and heavy. He didn't mess around…I liked him already.

Easy to tell that his class was my favorite even though I had already taken an anatomy class back in my primary schooling. He went deeper than my last instructor and was well prepared to answer any questions that students could throw his way. His pace was just fast enough to challenge but didn't leave students behind and he always had a visual aid, such as notes or diagrams, to help in our learning.

He wasn't much to look at, truth be told. The femmes in the class were all about how rugged he was and that he had been a Medic in the Quintesson War, which I couldn't seem to believe. He wasn't young but he wasn't that old, right? He was a bulky model with a med-pack, extra metal to cover bags of energon for emergency transfusions and strong legs for running long distances. His arms were equipped with a plethora of devices to use on the field as well as in an emergency situation where transportation wasn't an option.

Other than his voice, his best assets were his servos. Strange? Not for a doctor of Ratchet's caliber. His servos had tiny little sensors from wrist to every finger pad that could check vitals in a second. His servos were wired to heat up before any procedure to kill bacteria. Plus, I heard they were extremely sensitive with all of those nodes and sensors.

You know what they said about doctors, right? They were great with their servos.

Slowly, a strong, albeit unhealthy, fascination started to grow in me toward the doctor. He was rugged, yes; not all that easy on the optics, yes; but there was a certain type of charisma to him. I could tell that he was a dominating personality not only in the classroom and emergency room but in the berth as well.

Perhaps, my fascination was partly because he didn't treat me any differently that the rest of the class. He expected just as much from me as he did the legacy mechs and femmes. He didn't see me as a 'scholarship' student but just as a student. Maybe it was this respect, although unconsciously shown, that made me curious about him as a regular mech. Perhaps, it was the forbidden aspect of pining after your instructor, who knows! I probably never will.

So I started fantasizing about him in my free time. Whether I was sitting alone in the cafeteria; studying in the library; or staring up at my dorm ceiling, I couldn't take my processor away from the images I could conjure. I tried to imagine what I would feel like for those servos to pin me up against a wall and run down my wings; I let myself imagine that he would completely dominate me in a way that was both brutal and extremely sexy.

Then, one day, I got my chance.

I was sitting in one of the many courtyards with a datapad across my lap, sipping my mid-day energon when a shadow fell across me. Distracted, I glanced up to find three very large grounders, obviously cut out to become emergency vehicles, standing there, staring at me. I knew why they were there so I gently sat my datapad and cube down and stood up so that I would at least get a beating while hanging on to my dignity.

"You take notes in the Hatchet's class?" the biggest of the three ask gruffly. His vocalizer was scratchy and ugly, which made me wince in disgust. They knew I took notes in class. In spite of what everyone expected of me, I had the second highest grade in the class; truth be told, I had the second highest grade in all of my classes. I always got beat out by one femme, but that's not the point.

"I took notes in Ratchet's class," I stress, staring at my immaculate nails lazily before looking up at him with my Pit-red optics. They called him the Hatchet because he would cut someone from a class if they weren't prepared and his graded essays and homework looked like they had been sliced with a blade, they were covered in so much red highlighting.

"Than you wouldn't mind letting us look them over." It wasn't a question.

I wanted to say no but I had just buffed out my pristine paint job and I knew that fists would fly if I didn't give them what they wanted. Besides, I had Ratchet's class in less than three hours, that definitely wasn't enough time to get the dents and scratches out. I refused to go to his class without an even, shining paintjob, period. Even if I couldn't have him, I'd at least let him see the better side of me; I wasn't some dirty Pit miner.

My servo almost reached for my datapad just as a large black and silver servo reached out to pat the leader's shoulder. "Aren't you late for class, Torque?" a very familiar voice asks seriously.

The three bullies turn around just as I do to see Ratchet standing there, his optics narrowed, at the group of us. My optics were wide as I gazed at the instructor in shock. I couldn't think of anything to say as he scared the three glitches away. My body wouldn't move from the spot even when the red emergency vehicle turned to look at me with his bright blue optics. They were full of understanding, sympathy and an underlying anger; it wasn't directed at me either.

"Knockout, right?" he questions, crossing his broad arms over his chest. It was all I could do not to put myself into stasis lock so I just nodded my helm. "Why don't you come with me?"

I had enough sense to gather my things before following after the instructor. His pace was brisk but easy enough for me to follow with my datapads in my arms; had I any coherency left in me, I'd put them in my subspace. Too bad I was a babbling idiot when faced with the mech of my darkest fantasies. All that time thinking about the ways I could seduce him or coerce him into my berth and here I was being a vocalizer-less idiot.

"You're a scholarship student, correct?" he finally asks as we are walking through the building to his office.

"Yeah," I answer slowly, wondering where this was going. If I was going to get a "you-should-probably-drop-out-because-you-won't-last-long-here" speech from Ratchet, I might just scream.

He nods his helm just before he stops right in front of his office door. It had his designation on it and everything, fancy. "You probably need a work-study job," that wasn't a question. Was he… "And I happen to be in need of one more work-study student."

I was absolutely floored and I don't go speechless very often, let alone twice in one day! I gawked at him for a few moments before becoming suspicious. "Don't you have plenty of students sign up for your work-study?" I question with narrowed eyes. My fantasies aside, he was still an instructor looking at a Pit-born student. He probably had biases just like the rest of his faculty members.

He relaxes against the wall, arms across his chest and the smirk that crosses over his faceplate heats my interface panel so suddenly my legs go weak. It was a confident expression but one filled with understanding that made me wonder if he could see all of my dark fantasies on my faceplate right then. "Of course I do," he chuckles honestly. The sound was like a frag for the audio receptors and it made a shudder rush down my back struts. I tried to hide it but I wasn't sure if I could. "I only allow certain students into my office though. I don't trust a lot of your classmates. Besides, I usually take the students that no one else will."

"In other words, the scholarship student," I say, crossing my arms across my chest defiantly. It was a sad attempt at gathering my dignity. I wasn't a stranger to fragging, by any means, but this was the first time someone had turned my temperature gauge up so quickly.

He nods his helm, keeping up that sensual, sexy smirk. It was no wonder the femmes went nuts and bolts for this mech; he wasn't the most physically attractive mech, by any means, but he had these little nuances that made my knees weak. "You're not the only one," he admits before opening the door to his office.

"Hey, Ratch, you've got some contracts to sign and I don't know where these-" the feminine voice cuts off when she looks up to see the instructor wasn't alone. "Go." Her bright blue optics went from me to Ratchet then back in confused curiosity.

"Polyphony?" I question in obvious shock.

You remember me telling you about the highest scoring student in my classes? Yeah, this was her. She was a small, helicopter-based femme with a red, gold and white paintjob. Her faceplate was slender like all fliers and her tail blades were draped behind her helm while her larger blades were draped down her back. She set the papers down and analyzed me.

When I said analyze, I mean she ran calculations through her processor like the prodigy she was. Supposedly, she was the next biggest thing to the medical field but from what I could tell, she barely spoke in class unless it was to answer a question that no one else knew the answer for. She was just as much of a loner as me, too. I saw her take her energon to a back table where she constantly had a datapad out, studying or reading up on the newest medical news to come out.

No one liked her.

"You're a scholarship student?" I can't help but inquire curiously.

Her lips thin out in her frustration but she leans back in her chair easily. "Yeah, surprised?"

Ratchet is completely ignoring us as he shuffles through some datapads. "Well, yeah," I say as if it is the most obvious thing in the universe. How could she be a scholarship student? Didn't she come from a wealthy family? Helicopters were used for a plethora of things in the upper-class region of Cybertron. Her Creators must be medical personnel or something.

"Sparklings," Ratchet warns with a chuckle. "Play nice…Ah, here it is!" He pulls out a datapad and sets it down on the table, gesturing for me to sit down. I do so as he pushes the pad to me where the work-study form was already loaded and everything for me. "Fill that out and you'll be working with Polyphony in my office and running errands for me."

Polyphony went back to what she was doing but I could tell she was curiously listening to the whole conversation. She was an odd helicopter, smart and cunning with a side of dangerous that I didn't quite understand. It was almost like she would stab you in the back if given the proper justification. She could do it and cover it up where she wouldn't be blamed for it either, which was creepy.

I finished up with the form and Ratchet stood with it in his servo. "I'm going to go file this with the President, why don't you set up a schedule with Polyphony?" he offers before disappearing through the door, leaving me with the creepy helicopter.

She looked up from her datapad before sighing. "Listen, I don't much care for working with partners but if Ratchet thinks you're good enough, than so do I," she explains, working with a few things on the pad before setting it in front of me. "Here, how does this look?"

She knew my schedule.

"You know my schedule?"

She rolls her optics with an exhausted venting of air. "Ratchet has your schedule, glitch," she says sarcastically and for some reason I feel as if she isn't making fun of me. Was that her humor? Did she _have_ humor?

I looked the schedule over again before nodding my helm. "Looks good enough," I confirm as she takes it back to make a copy onto another datapad. "What's the job?"

She looks up with her blue optics before setting the pad away. Her more relaxed stance was a little bit of a shock because she usually sat with perfect posture. Her back was always straight, her servos on the desk in front of her, and her helm held high. She came off as a snob so I figured she belonged with the rest of them. Now, I was starting to see the true side of her; she was slouched like a comfortable Pit worker, her servos folded behind her helm and her pedes raising to rest on the desk.

"I keep him organized," she explains with a leisurely gesture. "I do his attendance, get his things in order for classes, check messages, organize his office, and all those things that go into getting him ready for his classes. I get the vibe that you don't enjoy any of that stuff." Weird, she knew me too well, already. "Thought so. Alright, well, you'll be in charge of running errands, you're a jet so you'll be faster than me, clean his room, grade assignments and enter grades into the computer."

"Isn't that a part of keeping his classes organized?" I question, leaning back in my own chair to relax.

Her faceplate heats to a soft red in embarrassment. "I don't do well with grading paper," she admits, looking away. I quirk an optic ridge at her. "Okay, I'm too harsh in my grading! Happy?" She looked like she was very heavily humiliated but it made me laugh. At least I could do something that she couldn't! "Oh, ha ha, keep laughing."

Surprisingly, we worked well together. She was a logical, organized individual that liked to keep things nice and neat and in a certain place. I was a more creative thinker and could see the grey area a little better than her. The job was great too. I enjoyed grading assignments; I enjoyed it even more when I got to give Torque a failing grade on his daily quiz because he didn't take notes the previous class.

Polyphony and I became quick…companions, was what I would probably call it. We weren't friends, by any means, because she was a harsh, untrusting femme that didn't accept anyone too close to her. Ratchet later explained to me that she had been Pit-born but her Creators were killed soon after she was born. She and her twin, Fatale, were separated at a very young age. Fatale was taken into the Gladiator Pits but Polyphony was too small so she was sent to an orphanage where she was adopted by two musicians, thus the name Polyphony. They were lower-middle class so it was never expected for her to be anything other than a musician until she started getting into medicine. Her Creators were a lot like mine, they sent her off on a scholarship so that she could elevate herself in a cruel, predictable world.

She and her twin still kept in close contact but it was hard for spark-twins to be away from each other. They were two halves to the same spark but it was an unfortunate truth that this kind of situation happened all the time in the Pits. Sparklings were separated all the time and put into separate homes or orphanages so it didn't surprise me that it had happened to her and her twin.

Anyways, that is another story for another day.

Ratchet and I were closer than ever. I mean, we sat across from the same desk almost every day but that wasn't the type of closer that I wanted. I wanted to be underneath him _on_ this desk. Mm, it was a nice fantasy that I liked to run through my processor as I sat across from him until I couldn't stand it.

Yes, yes, call me a masochist if you like, I don't care.

It wasn't until I was working with Polyphony, alone, that I got my final chance. She had been oddly silent through our first hour of work, which was strange. Usually, we would chat through the entire two hours before she went to her dorm, leaving me with Ratchet for an hour. It was the last day before our before-finals break so I figured she'd have a lot to say but she was silent.

"I'm going to head out early today," she finally says, startling me. I look at her in question, she never left early. "I'm…going to see my twin today."

My small smile was automatic. So sue me, I had a soft spot for the femme. We were kindred sparks in a way; we were each other's only solace from a world of cruelty. Yeah, corny, got you but that doesn't matter. "That sounds fine by me," I respond as she stands up to gather her things. I could see the excitement in her movements, something that was rare from the femme. She kept her emotions very controlled no matter what; maybe I was growing on her?

She walked around the desk but instead of leaving, she sat her aft down on the edge right next to me. I jumped, she had never gotten this close before. "His servos are his weak spot," she smirks.

"Excuse me?" I yelp, nearly dropping my datapad in shock.

She couldn't be talking about what I think she's talking about…right?

Her smirk widens dangerously. "Ratchet, his servos are his weakness, get him there and you're good to go."

She was totally talking about what I thought she was talking about.

Getting up, she pats my shoulder lightly. "You're not fooling this femme, KO," she chuckles, using her nickname for me. "I see the way you look at him. Pit, I _feel_ the way you look at him!"

I turn as she goes for the door with her bag tossed over her shoulder casually. "Why are you telling me this?" I ask, trying to reign in my shocked confusion.

Her chuckle is light but musical. "Think of it as payback for being my companion in a sea of stupidity," she explains before disappearing out the door. "Have a good break."

Did she just…yeah, she totally just admitted that I was her friend. Weird.

Oh yeah, and she gave me the code to Ratchet's interface panel. What would I do without her? Well, first off, I wasn't going to ask how she knew about his weak spot but she was an observant femme so she probably saw the small nuances that no one else could. Second, frag how was I going to do this without appearing…obvious.

It was later when Ratchet was sitting across from me where my plan formulated. I just needed a way to bring up the conversation and quickly; I only had an hour with him before I was off for break. "Ratchet," I finally speak up, catching the medic's attention easily. His blue optics glance up as his servos set down the datapad he was holding. "Can you help me with something?"

I was trying to be as innocent and normal as possible but he merely smiled. "Alright, what is it?" he asks in that friendly, open manner that he always used.

"Well," I pretended to be embarrassed to ask him but in my body was completely ready. "It's just that in Minor Repairs class we have a test coming up on servos and…"

He quirks an optic ridge at me but nods his helm. "That section was really hard for me too. What do you need to know?" he questions and I can't help but smile to hide my smirk.

He was mine for the taking.

"We have a test on the repair of joint malfunctions," I explain, which I really wasn't lying about. It was going to be a difficult test but I knew how to do it.

His servo raises to tap his chin before he decides something. "Alright, I can help with that," he finalizes, gesturing for me to come around the desk. Slowly, so as not to seem too eager, I circle the piece of furniture and set my aft on the edge, right in front of him. He slid his chair back to accommodate me but it wasn't far enough so that our EM fields didn't graze lightly. Oh Primus…I felt the heat sinking through my systems already.

Holding out his servo, he allows me to take it. I cup it within my own servo gently, as if I were holding a fragile animal. His servos were beautiful, well kept and obviously very flexible even from there. "Okay, show me where the main joint-strut is for the my index finger," he starts, holding his servo, palm-up, so his fingers could curl just slightly.

Holding in the devious smirk, I run my clawed finger down his strut, from wrist to knuckle. It was slow but deliberate and I felt the tensing of his struts in response. "Here," I answer as if nothing was wrong.

"Good," he whispers, trying to keep the slight tremor from his vocalizer. Had it been anyone else, they probably wouldn't have noticed but I was looking for the weakness. "Now, show me the three joints of the index finger."

Ever so lightly, I use my index and thumb to squeeze each corresponding joints for a fraction of a second. His servo twitched but he was doing a great job of holding in his pleasure. It was heartening to know that he cared enough for me that he would put himself through this torture to teach me. If I didn't have the information that I did, I might not even notice these nuances. Thankfully, I did.

"Great, now, if the knuckle joint is dislocated, how would you put it back into place?" he nearly grits out, trying oh-so hard to hide his tantalizing bliss from me.

I wrap my servo around his bulky digit to do the move but hesitate. "Like this?" I pause, pressing my servo down across his finger.

His entire body tenses in response. "No," he whispers breathlessly. "You pull the joint out then in." It was almost like a plea and I was more than happy to drag my closed servo up toward the tip of his finger before pushing back down. I couldn't help but think this was a lot like pleasuring a spike, except smaller. If his servos had just as many nodes and sensors as a spike then this was going to be a lot more fun than originally planned.

"Like that?" All he can do is nod his helm, trying to collect himself effortlessly. "And if it's broken, then you have to create a cast for it." I frame his finger with mine, squeezing lightly to draw a soft sigh from the mech. "Right here."

"Yes," he breathes out, his optics staring straight at our contrasting servos. "Any-Anything else?"

I could tell he was trying to get out of this situation but I still had forty-five minutes to burn and it was going to be with his spike in my valve. "What if you get dirt in the joint?" I question curiously.

"What-"

Before he can get anything else out, I bring his servo right up to my faceplate and run my glossa across the base of his finger. His moan couldn't be contained; it was the sweetest music I had ever listened to. I slid my glossa across every joint of his finger, mapping out a line until my mouth could wrap around the tip and suck.

He jerked up to his pedes at that and I saw the internal battle raging inside his optics to run. I held his gaze with my own as I drew more of his finger into my mouth, laving it with my tongue and sucking lightly. He wanted to run but something was keeping him glued to the spot. Was it the way I looked, sprawled across the desk with my mouth wrapped around his finger or was it because he couldn't think straight?

"K-Knockout," he whispers desperately, placing his other servo on the desk next to my hip to hold himself up. In response, I hum as if asking him a question. The vibrations make him lean heavily against the desk, his form settled nicely between my legs. "S-Stop."

His plea was beautiful, useless, but beautiful. Letting his finger slip from my mouth, I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer. The feel of his burning interface panel against mine was pure bliss and I couldn't help the shameless moan that escaped my lips. "Don't lie to me, Ratchet," I smirk, staring up at him, still holding onto his servo. I leaned back against the other so that I could buck my hips against his. "I know what this does to you."

His servo clenched in mine but I could see his resolve, his excuses, falling away. It was with rusted chains that he was reigning in his lust; I could practically feel the beast pacing under his tightly held defenses. I just needed one more little thing to send him over the edge; one tiny shove and he's be fragging me in seconds. Slowly, I took his servo and brought it back to my mouth. I let him see every centimeter that it traveled until I parted my lips, licking them with my talent glossa teasingly.

The next few things happened in rapid succession. I wrapped my lips around two of his fingers and drew deeply before finding myself shoved onto my back by the servo on my faceplate while the other manually opened my interface panel. He didn't waste any time forcing a finger into my tight valve, making me moan around his fingers desperately.

Primus, yes, this was what I wanted!

All of my pining and fantasizing and here I was being held down against his desk while his fingers thrust into my valve and mouth. It was the most erotic thing that I had ever experienced but I needed more. I hitched my legs up so that my pedes were on the edge, spreading my thighs apart for him and giving me some leverage to push against him.

He was passionate and frenzied, just the way I enjoyed fragging. His single digit was soon joined by another then another until I was being stretched to the point of breaking. He couldn't possibly think I needed that much preparation, could he? Sure, I was tight, I did my valve exercises, but how large could he be?

My question was soon answered as he jerked me forward by my hips the head of his spike rubbing across my rim. Oh scrap, I was fragged. He was a _lot_ larger than I expected; actually, he was the largest I had ever experienced. I was starting to think I needed more preparation just as he pulled his servo away from my faceplate. "Ready?" he finds the coherency to ask.

My doubt washed away in an instant. "Scrap, yes!" I nearly scream just as he thrusts straight into me. I arched my back in desperate pleasure. Never, in a million years, could I have expected such brutal treatment from the medic. I figured he'd rocked into my valve or take it slow. Frag no, he was already half-way seated in my valve and already pulling out for the next thrust. "Primus, more!" I plead, clawing at his arms.

His servos clenching my luscious hips tighten before he thrusts sharply into my core. I swear I thought I might split in two with how wide his spike was not to mention how rough he was being with me. "You okay?" he asks, making me growl darkly.

"Frag me already!" I beg in a frenzy.

I was rewarded with a thrust that rocked my world, followed by another and another until a tempo was set. It wasn't enough. I would never get enough of this mech. His servos were inching their way up my chest to tweak wires that I didn't even know I had under my armor. My legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close but he wasn't going anywhere as he mercilessly slammed into me.

My servos clawed at something, anything, to hold onto and I found his shoulders before anything else. He leaned down to allow me better access but that wasn't all. His lips smothered mine in a kiss that made my processor go still with static. His glossa caressed mine viciously fighting for dominance that I wanted to give him desperately.

His hulking form covered mine so easily and I found it incredibly alluring to feel his dominance over me. I wanted him to completely overpower me. He was already doing a good job as his thrusts picked up speed, driving me closer and closer to my overload. Primus, I needed for him to go faster, harder.

He pulled away from the kiss, panting harshly against his rapid speed until I was crying out his name in reckless abandon. "Please, Ratchet!" I implore, dragging my claws down his arms frantically. "Harder, frag me harder!"

His optics stare down at my heated faceplate and slowly, that confident, smug smirk crosses his lips. With one more violent thrust my body peaks so suddenly it hits me like flying into a brick wall at the speed of sound. I open my mouth to scream, allowing him to muffle my noise with two fingers. My walls clenched around him as he gave shallow thrusts; he was so close I could feel it.

Sucking hard, I drive him over the edge in mere seconds, listening to him gasp my name like a prayer. Music, absolute music…

His transfluid is hot as it spills into my valve and I become aware of my own transfluid that had splashed across our chests. That could wait though as he slumps forward to lay against me, exhausted. My own vents and fans were working in overtime to cool down my internal temperature but all I could hear were his ragged gasps of air.

"That was…fantastic," I whisper, vocalizer hoarse from my screaming. "We should do this again."

His spike was still buried inside of my valve and I was disappointed when he pulled free to stand there, staring down at me. "Primus, it shouldn't have happened a first time," he mutters, more to himself than to me. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

I could hear the humor in his voice and it made me relax. At least he wasn't angry with me for giving him the best overload of his function. I am obviously known for my looks and modesty. "Hm…" I pretend to think, tapping my chin. "Yeah."

It happened only that once and then Ratchet had to leave the school. It was sad, really, because then Polyphony and I had to find a new work-study mentor. No one would take us so, eventually, we both had to drop out. Ratchet went into politics, which was, great, really, but you could say I blamed him a little for my situation.

He never explained why he left. Was it to go into politics? Because right after that, the war started. I automatically joined the Decepticons and they put my medical knowledge to good use in the interrogation room. I don't know what happened to Polyphony and her sister or Ratchet for that matter…

Until now.

Looking at the small slide of synthetic energon, I contemplated this new piece of information. Ratchet was alive and kicking but heavily guarded by his team. That was the first time I had ever seen him since coming to Earth. Who knew that this would bring us back together, pupil and mentor.

I smirked.

I had a few things that I'd love to say to him but…I also had a few things that I wanted to _do_ to him as well. Mm, the thought of those servos on me, that spike inside my valve…it made even Breakdown's fragging seem bumbled at best. He was probably the best frag I had ever experienced and…I wanted it again. Before, I ripped his spark right out of his chest, that is.

There was only one problem…how was I going to get him out of his team's precious base?

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><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p>AN: Alright, Part One!

Sorry for the title, I was listening to Iamx _Spit It Out_ while writing this one and it's a little dark at times.

Knockout...is freaking awesome to write! xD I had so much fun writing from his perspective! I can't wait to start on the second part!

Polyphony and Fatale are my own made up characters! :P They won't have any other part in this story. I'm usually against putting OC's into stories like this but I needed a catalyst character and so I just made one up!

Thanks so much to everyone who has commented and I'm so happy that so many people loved my Trine-action in the last chapter! XD Sorry, I'm a sucker for that Trine, not going to lie! Starscream just needed some love!

Also, if you have a Deviantart account and are not apart of the Ratchet Club, you need to be! One of the admins are holding a competition and I am giving one of the prizes...wait for it...

I am going to write that winner a short fanfiction of any pairing of their choice! I'm so excited about it, you have no clue! xD

If you're interested, it's a drawing and writing contest centered around Bumblebee slash of any rating! I encourage all of you to join in! Just look up bells-of-gold, that's my username and I have it listed under my journal!

Thanks again for everyone who reviews and supports me! :D Hope you like it!


	12. Embrace the Instinct: Part Two

**Embrace the Instinct**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxKnockout

Rating: R

Warnings: Smut. Dark topics. Don't like, don't read.

Description: Set after "Stronger, Faster..." when Knockout realizes that the Autobot medic looks awfully familiar. Then, it hits him, Ratchet was his instructor back in medical school. Memories turn into a plot of revenge wrought with sexual deviance.

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><p><strong>Embrace the Instinct<strong>_  
><em>

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><p>Ever since he came to Earth, I hadn't been able to get him out of my processor. It was strange how figments of your past could come back from the dead to haunt you. Honestly, every now and again when the weight of the war bared down on my back the hardest, I brought his memory up. It was the last time I had ever truly been intimate with someone before the war started up.<p>

After that tryst with Knockout, I had been thrown into the world of politics. Optimus was a Prime and wanted me to run for senate so that I could help him promote change to stop a war before it even started. He was smart enough to see it coming and his evidence was too conclusive for me to deny him.

I couldn't tell my two work-study students where I was going, they would never believe me. They had grown up in a part of the world where everyone was against them; they went to a school where everyone was against them succeeding even if they were the best freshmen that the school had. My biggest regret was leaving them in that world by themselves. They had each other, which was never good enough, but they lasted longer than I ever imagined they would.

When I heard that they had dropped out, I couldn't help but blame myself. Two of the smartest youths out there in the medical field and the world was too close minded to see the good they could do. That's why I fought with my entire reputation to push change in the senate once I was elected in. Nothing I did helped. They were too stuck in their ways and I was just one mech fighting against hundreds. The Pit wasn't represented by anyone in the senate so I took it on myself to be their representation even if I wasn't qualified.

The only experience I had with the Pit was with a couple of work-study students on scholarship. They kept me going, though. All I had to do was think of Polyphony or Knockout and it motivated me to do as much as I could in the senate and I fought for them so very hard. I thought about going to visit Knockout several times but I knew what kind of reception I would get.

He would never trust me again.

I had become the one thing he hated the most, a politician. Even if I tried to explain my goals and ambitions, he would never believe me. I was another high-class mech by then and I wanted so desperately to explain that I was doing all of that for him and the others like him. His people were stubborn and full of pride, as they should be, because they were the ones that ran Cybertron. They did all the jobs that the upper-class just weren't made to do; unlike the upper-class, though, they never got credit for their hard work.

Venting some air, I focus on the computer I had been staring at for the past thirty minutes without really looking at it. Did he still hold that grudge against me? Would he never forgive me? These were questions I had asked myself since becoming a politician but I never thought they'd be answered until now. I had thought he was dead or lost in the cosmos somewhere, hidden away from the war.

The transmission had come in a half hour ago, heavily encrypted for everyone but me. It was a message for me…from Knockout. I knew that one would come eventually. The medic gone bad had looked at me strangely the first time I had been face-to-face with him, as if he recognized me but didn't quite remember who I was. His voice, sensual and seductive, was all it took for me to bring up the memory of him sprawled across my desk, my spike deep in his valve.

It seemed he had finally recognized me.

I continued to stare at the message, still processing the information slowly. He wanted to meet up with me, alone. He didn't say why, he didn't explain anything else. That was all it said along with some coordinates. Primus, I knew this was a trap, I truly did. I could read between the lines and see the danger that lurked in his typed words. He was not a mech to be taken lightly.

I already knew I was going to meet him, that much was certain, but I needed to get away from the team. Optimus' trust in me was infinite so I could simply lie about where I was going and be done with it but it killed me to lie to the mech. He was my oldest friend, my closest friend, and I was their medic. What would happen should I be injured or captured? I needed a backup plan.

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><p>I tapped the tip of my pede impatiently. How rude of Ratchet to keep me waiting. Didn't he know that it was socially unacceptable to be late to a date? Or at least, that's what the humans thought. They were such a weird race with all of their faux pas and taboos. Like rough interface (well, they called it sex), it was supposedly taboo and unnatural. Strange, it wasn't looked down on back on Cybertron; actually, it was quite normal for different sexual preferences to be seen all over the place.<p>

Anyways, I digress…

Oh yes, he's late.

Maybe he wasn't coming. No, he wouldn't miss this. If I knew Ratchet like I did, then he would never give up this chance. He probably wanted to explain why he had gone into politics, even though I knew perfectly well why, and he probably wanted to plead for me to forgive him.

Psh, like that was happening.

I had my plan all laid out in my processor for when he arrived. It was such a nice plan, too. It made my insides warm to think of what I was going to do to the medic when he…

My mental monologue was halted by the sound of an engine. Ratchet. I would know that sound anywhere as he transformers and walks into the cave that I had chosen for our rendezvous point. It was darkest in the back where I was sitting on a rock, my legs crossed elegantly. My shock staff was attached to my back, just in case.

I stand as he walks closer, deeper into my dark little cave. The lights on his thighs and chest lit up to illuminate the darkest recesses. At least I knew he was alone, I couldn't sense any other EM fields within a good distance. "Knockout," he whispers, staring at me as if he were looking at a ghost.

Primus, his voice was still like an overload for my audio receptors.

"Ratchet, it's been quite a while," I say, crossing my arms over my chest, not even bothering with my own headlights. My optics were just fine at seeing in the dark, I guessed it was a Pit-born thing. "You're looking…better."

His servo involuntarily reaches up to touch his chest where a huge gaping hole had once been carved into him by Megatron. "Why did you want to meet with me?" he finally asks, his voice growing a little stronger. He never was one to dance around the subject.

Good, I wasn't a dancer.

The only problem was…now that I had him right where I wanted him…I was at a loss. It wasn't that my plan couldn't work; it couldn't fail. It was that seeing him made old feelings start to surface. Instead of anger and a need for revenge…I felt…happy to see him. Gross, these feelings were unwanted. He wasn't my lover, he wasn't my spark-partner…he was a politician. A traitor of the worst kind.

That thought helped to fuel my dimming anger so that I could walk forward. My hips sway a little more than usual and I can see that it doesn't go unnoticed. He was doing a really good job of keeping calm in this dangerous situation; he knew that I was no docile mech. I was an interrogator, one of the best there ever was, if I do say so myself. I could rip his spark right out of his chamber with my bare servos, well, if I wanted to get them dirty.

"I've missed you," is what I finally decide to answer with, running my servo across his shoulder. I walk around him, letting my optics drift down his bulky form. From tip of help to base of foundations, he looked exactly the same with the addition of a few scars here or there. I allow my fingers to touch his arm, down to his wrist before he pulls away finally. "Still sensitive?"

He steps to the side so that he can look me straight in the faceplate, his blue optics bright in the semi-dark. "I'm sorry," he states firmly but it wasn't for pulling away. I could hear the tone in his deep, masculine vocalizer…I could hear the reason.

My spark clenches as I remember the day both Polyphony and I were kicked out of medical school. We sat there together in the President's office, helms held high as we were told that our scholarships were being taken away. It was the first time she had ever looked so sad, so depressed…it wasn't fair.

"Shut up!" I scream, thinking of my own pain. It had been my last shot at getting out of the Pits; this was my last chance to elevate myself and my Creators. They never blamed me for it, I know, but then again, neither did I. "You have no clue what you did to us!"

Rage wasn't something I was usually accustomed to but I found myself throwing the older medic up against the cavern wall fiercely. The scraping of metal on stone was grating and harsh but we both seemed oblivious to it. His faceplate never changed, not once, as I pressed my sharp digits into his shoulders, tearing at metal. He didn't fight back; he just stood there, staring at my faceplate.

Frustration, so deep and dark I didn't want to claim it, seeped into my spark until it festered and bleed down to my panel. I hated him and I wanted him. I didn't understand it. It was taking over my spark, driving me insane as it fought for release.

Wrapping my servo behind Ratchet's neck, I jerked him forward to smash our lips together. The release of that energy was cosmic and I couldn't help the moan. His servos grabbed at my hips, pulling me forward, pressing us together like he wanted to absorb me into his very being. Every ounce of frustration and tension slipped from me like a knot coming loose.

It was…addictive.

His servos felt like fire on my rounded hips before they were dipping into my seams, dragging pleasure after pleasure from me. It was a pleasure I hadn't even known I had missed. I hated to admit that no one had this power over me but Ratchet; I loathed the control he could take over my body, my processor, and yet reveled in it too. His kiss was like high-grade energon, smooth but burned going down; his touch was a drug that one taste and you couldn't get enough of.

When his lips moved away from mine, I had somehow been shoved against the cave wall. I felt my insides churn at the look in the medic's optics as he stared at me. There was a primal lust that frightened and excited me all at the same time. Arousal was throbbing in my aching valve, lubrication already flowing, my spike begging to be pressurized. I had to hold back…I had to keep what little bit of control I had in this situation.

"How do you do this to me?" Ratchet almost growls, baring his denta in an almost painful grimace. I could feel the heat coming off of him in waves and it was smothering what little sense I had left. His hulking body dwarfed mine so easily and Primus if that didn't rev my engine even more.

His servos were stagnant on my hips, his body pinning me to the wall effortlessly. His power, his control made me submissive like no one had ever done before or after him. He was the only one who had this effect on me. Oh Primus if I didn't love every second of it like the masochist I was.

"Please," I beg, gripping his shoulders helplessly. "Don't stop!" If he stopped I knew I would die. I could feel it in my spark that this was what I had been looking for in any other berth-partner I had taken after Ratchet. I had already found the perfect frag and it was twisted, demented and I loved every second of it.

Servos clenched on my hips before my front was being pressed against the cave wall. I gasped as his lips trailed across my back-strut, mapping his way lower. My servos fisted against the rock wall the closer he got to my closed panel. My fans kicked on just as his glossa peeked out to run across the seam of my interface panel. Still, I held back, allowing him to unlock the mechanism manually so that my aching spike could pressurize and he could get to my dripping valve.

His servos positioned me so that my legs were spread wide and my hips were away from the wall. I could feel his vented air on my valve making me tense at the rush of lubricants that slipped down my inner thighs. Any other time, I would have felt humiliated but with Ratchet staring at my valve, I was only that much more turned on.

"Ratchet," I plead, pressing my forehead against the rock wall.

My vocalizer hitched as not one but two fingers were pressed into my valve, stretching it quickly. I probably would have felt the pain had I not already been so stimulated. Instead, I pressed into those fingers, needing more. He kept his other servo on my hip but didn't restrict me. He spread his fingers inside of me, hitting all sorts of nodes that had me whimpering with pleasure.

His thrusts nearly shoved me against the wall but I needed something more…substantial. "Ratchet!" I pant out through the pleasure. "Please, frag me!"

His fingers disappear, making me groan at the emptiness but before I can even inhale I feel it. That wide tip that had my body shuddering with anticipation. I had never wanted something so much in my entire function. No other mech had ever truly satisfied me until Ratchet. I cared for Breakdown but he couldn't control me, thrill me like this.

Placing his lips against my shoulder, he gave a powerful thrust. My helm spun at the feel of his impressive spike driving deep into my core completely. His tip brushed against my deepest nodes, sending shocks of shivers down my struts until I was a writhing mess. He hadn't even moved yet and I was this close to overloading, pathetic.

His servos gripped tightly to my hips before he was sliding out almost all the way. I dug my fingers into the stone at the slow, drag of his tip across the nodes and sensors all along the inside of me. My hips jerked forward when he drove home, my wail echoing off the walls as he started a fast, heavy tempo that nearly glitches my processor.

Pleasure, powerful and thundering, rocked my entire form until I was an incoherent mass of metal and circuits. His fingers dipped into seams to drag it out, his hips never stopping their pace for a second. My overload was building so quickly and I was so muddled with need for release that I was shoving back into his thrusts.

His thrusts became shallow, sharp, jabbing at my deepest sensors. My vision literally went white as my overload hit me without mercy. I think I screamed his name but I couldn't be certain as he let out his own low cry before I felt transfluid fill my valve hotly. He slumped against my back heavily, panting against my neck.

We stayed there for a few moments as my systems rebooted and I could sense that he was letting himself go through some diagnostics as well before pulling away. The loss of his heat and spike was more than just physical…I felt it in my very being. My desire, my need was insatiable. It was disturbing. I was satisfied, very much so, but I wanted him only that much more.

I slowly turned around, still supporting myself on the wall, looking at the mech with half-hooded optics. His optics were watching me as well, taking in the small scrapes on my chest from the rock wall. Yet again, normally, I would be furious but…I felt a certain kind of pride in them. He wasn't walking away without his fair share of marks either from the looks of his shoulders.

This hadn't gone according to my plan, at all.

The silence took over up until I did something uncharacteristic: I ran. I transformed and rushed away. I couldn't quite explain why I did it but I couldn't take the way he was looking at me. It was a mixture of lust and understanding. As if he could actually know what was going on in my processor…I didn't even know what was going on in my processor! This sick obsession needed to be cured.

I needed a cure.

* * *

><p>I watched him drive off in shock.<p>

What had I just done? Again. This had happened twice and both times were forbidden. First, he was my student and now he was my enemy. Primus, was my processor that slagged that I had resorted to doing illegal things to get my bolts off?

It just…happened. One moment I'm being shoved against a wall then I'm being kissed and then I lose my fragging processor! He had this…power over me that I never could understand. From the first day he stepped into my classroom…I knew there was something different about him. There was a dangerous charisma there. Even though none of his classmates would admit it…there was a dark fascination that came with Knockout.

He had the personality of a confident, cocky individual but there was an effortless appeal that dragged you in and held fast. He walked with a dignity but the sway in his hips said he was willing to do something shameless. His smirk was confident but also held unspoken promises. He was wickedly intelligent and knew how to get what he wanted; he was always sure of what he wanted too…until now. I could see the reflection of all my emotions and doubts in his optics.

I walked out of the cave into the light of day, allowing my optics to adjust. Truthfully, I wasn't surprised to see Wheeljack leaned up against a rock ledge, that cocky smirk on his faceplate. He was my backup plan after all. Why shouldn't he be here?

"Bumping uglies with the enemy? Bold move, Doc," he drawls, pushing himself off of the wall to come closer.

"Please, Wheeljack, human slang doesn't suit you," I say, a little crabby that he was out here. "Besides, I thought I told you to come looking for me if I disappeared."

He chuckles, strutting to stand next to me. "Come on, Doc, you had to know I'd be curious as to what you were doing behind your precious Prime's back!" he explains, sadly, with a lot of logic. It wasn't like me to go outside the base like this without telling Optimus exactly where I was. "And, by the way he was screamin', it's no wonder my frag-life sucks transmission fluid; I've been looking at the wrong mechs!"

His humor was vulgar but flattering all at the same time. "You know what they say about medics," I try at humor even though my processor was whirling with confusion.

It works, strangely enough. He tilts his helm back and lets out a booming laugh. "Yeah, I've heard the rumors but I never thought they'd be true!" he teases lightly, giving my shoulder a playful shove. "Though, if you want to prove it to me…" His suggestion hung in the air like a promise but I gave him a slightly condescending look that made him throw his servos up in defense. "Hey, just offerin'! I never would have guessed but if you Docs keep it all to yourself none of th' rest of us can enjoy!" he smirks before looking at the trail ahead of us. "But, in all seriousness, you think this is such a good idea, Doc?"

I look at him curiously, was he worried about me? "No, it's not," I say honestly, running my servo across my faceplate in frustration.

"Then, why you doin' it?"

Easy enough question but a damn near impossible one to answer in these circumstances. "I don't know," I answer bluntly, sighing deeply. Wheeljack wasn't the only one picking up on human idiosyncrasies. "I just can't…stay away from him." Why was I telling him this? Did he even care?

"Ah, I see," he states with complete understanding in his vocals. I look at him in shock. What could he possibly understand about this? "There were these two mechs in the Wreckers who were the worst of enemies. I mean, they hated each other with a passion! They couldn't even stand to look at each other! Well, one day they were sparring and one thing led to another and before either knew what was going on they were fragging the slag out of each other.

"They didn't understand it; they couldn't explain how it had happened. You know what I told them?" he asks, looking at me with understanding optics.

I shook my head, mesmerized.

"I told them that sometimes rivalry and inexplicable passion makes for the hottest frags and sometimes an interesting relationship," he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked down at me with that smirk still set on his lips. "You don't have to bond with him, Doc, but even in war you need a nice release every now and then."

He started walking toward the road before turning back. "Oh, by the way," he starts, catching my attention. "Don't tell Bulk I told you that story."

Then he transformed and was gone in a cloud of dust.

* * *

><p>My spark was pounding as I paced back and forth in the med-bay back on the Nemesis. I hadn't done a single thing my plan called for. Instead, I had let him frag me senseless into the slagging cave wall like a bitch in heat. It didn't help that every time I met a wall and had to turn around, my valve stung in reminder. You want to know the worst part? Oh, the worst part about the whole thing was that I was completely satisfied!<p>

My processor could regret the incident all it wanted but my body was completely content!

I threw my servos up at absolutely no one, letting out a frustrated cry that reverberated off of the metal walls loudly. I couldn't get it out of my processor either. I kept thinking about the feel of him pressing my front into the wall; I could practically feel his spike penetrating me in one powerful thrust.

Primus, the truth was that I'd go another round with him in a spark beat. Pit, I'd go three more rounds!

I groaned and sat down to bang my helm against the table. The resounding clank was harsh as it echoed through the room but I couldn't have cared less. I didn't even have a mark to remind me of what he did to me; I buffed them out hours ago. Frag it, I was tempted to keep just one mark but I didn't want to answer questions from Megatron or Dreadwing.

Never again. I wouldn't do it again. I'd let my valve rust before I allowed Ratchet to touch me so intimately ever again. It was too risky to keep meeting up with him; not that he would ever send me a message much like the one I sent him. I would just stay away from him and seeing as he never joined in on the missions, I was pretty much set.

Good. I could do this…I think.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Part two! Whoo!

If all goes according to plan the next part should be the last but you know how I am sometimes I go overboard! xD

Anyways, thanks for all the reviews! I love all of them! :D

Enjoy!


	13. Embrace the Instinct: Part Three

**Embrace the Instinct**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxKnockout

Rating: R

Warnings: Smut. Dark topics. Don't like, don't read.

Description: Set after "Stronger, Faster..." when Knockout realizes that the Autobot medic looks awfully familiar. Then, it hits him, Ratchet was his instructor back in medical school. Memories turn into a plot of revenge wrought with sexual deviance.

* * *

><p><strong>Embrace the Instinct<strong>

* * *

><p>A few weeks pass by without any correspondence between Knockout and myself. It was a good thing, I knew this, but it was also driving me insane. It wasn't because of the sparkling thoughts of, "Did I do something wrong?" No, it was more of, "How long can he stand without seeing me?"<p>

He obviously felt a lot of the same feelings for me that I felt for him or he wouldn't have allowed me to frag him into that wall. It was also a thought that I couldn't erase from my processor for more than an hour before it slipped back in. It was like a bad case of rust; you think you get rid of it but there is always a little bit left that continues to grow and fester.

Knockout was a disease that I couldn't and didn't want to get rid of.

I ran my servo across my faceplate so I could focus on the synthetic energon formula I was tweaking with. I couldn't concentrate on anything but the feel of his heat, his passion; I could practically hear him screaming my name. Primus, he was so addictive. It made me want to bang my helm against a steel wall, maybe that would get him out of my processor for two seconds.

"You look frustrated, old friend."

I nearly jump out of my armor as Optimus lays a servo on my shoulder. It was supposed to comfort but I was completely lost in my own world that I hadn't heard him walk in. "Yeah, I can't get this formula right," I lie, rubbing my faceplate lightly.

"That's not what I meant," he says gently, sitting down beside me. His optics were always so understanding, so open. "I found the transmission from Knockout." My optics widen in shock, how had he found it? I deleted it the second I read the coordinates. He chuckles softly. "Ratchet, I was an archivist for Iacon. I know my way around a computer system. Would you like to talk about it?"

Talking wouldn't do anything about my situation but I found the offer tempting. He was one of my oldest and dearest friends; he, of all 'bots, would understand. "Knockout was one of my students, back at the university," I slowly start to explain and once I opened my mouth, I couldn't stop. I spilled my internals out to him until there was nothing left inside; I let him know about everything, even our violent, strange mating habits.

He took everything in with that same look on his faceplate. His optics expressed his attention and the smile expressed his understanding attitude towards everything. Even though he was listening to me admit fraternization with the enemy, he never once passed judgment. His faceplate never accused me of anything; he was neither mocking or disgusted.

He just listened.

We sat in silence after I finished talking. Was it normal to feel this way about someone? Was it normal to think about them on a daily basis? I didn't think this was love. How could something so lovely feel so demented? It was true I had never been in love before but…was this it? Or was I just a twisted mech?

Optimus sat and thought for a long time, weighing the words he wanted to express very carefully. He was like that, though. He liked to taste his words before he said them. His processor was a thesaurus and a dictionary all wrapped into one that could come up with the perfect things to say to someone. He always knew what to say.

"I think, old friend," he finally speaks up in his deep, comforting voice. "That what you're feeling is completely normal."

Normal? He thought this was normal?

I stare at him in confusion. "How can this be normal, Optimus?" I ask on the verge of panic. "These thoughts, these…desires are twisted and…"

"The way that you enjoy interface," he interrupts gently, placing a servo on my arm. My optics stare into his as he smiles, easing my discomfort effortlessly. "We are all different in our preferences, Ratchet. Some of us like what most call the 'norm' but we all have quirks that we want satisfied. Some are common, such as attention to the neck cables; some…are not."

His words seeped into my processor, allowing me to run them through again and again furiously. Preferences, he called them. Past lovers had never accepted my need for dominance, my need for passion. Some had even left me because I was 'too rough'. No one had ever left me for lack of pleasure or satisfaction but…perhaps Optimus was on to something.

Optimus shifts slightly, bringing me back to the present. "Elita One had a hard time with interface partners, much like yourself," he begins with a distant smile. Elita One had been his bond-mate before she had been killed in the war. I knew it still hurt him to talk about her but I stayed silent, letting him finish. "She enjoyed biting during interface; she enjoyed doing and receiving. Not hard, just enough leave marks but most partners she had didn't enjoy it as much as she did."

"Until you?" I offered with a small smile.

His faceplate turned a gentle red in embarrassment. "Yes," he chuckles. "Once we found that our quirks matched, it was…addictive to interface with her. It takes a special person to ignite passion, Ratchet, and for each of us it is different. You want to be with him because he offers you something that others can't."

Leave it to Optimus to turn something akin to obsession into something romantic but he did have a point. My interface habits were…rare, at best. Knockout had fulfilled my kink to the point that I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had never had an overload like the ones I had with Knockout. He satisfied me completely and he did it without me having to ask. I was also very certain that I did the same for him as well.

"I know you may not be in love with him like I was with Elita but I give you full permission to see him on occasion," Optimus states finally, standing up slowly. "Just, next time, tell me where you're going so that I can be prepared just in case something happens, okay?"

I smile slightly but nod my helm. "Alright, thanks, Optimus."

* * *

><p>Three weeks, two days, five hours, six minutes and thirteen seconds…<p>

That's how long it had been since our little tryst. Not that I was keeping track or anything.

Actually, I was going insane! Since Breakdown was…compromised, I hadn't had anyone to talk to on this Primus forsaken ship. I liked to talk at Soundwave (one didn't really talking with him) but this was not something I wanted the Third to find out. Megatron…yeah, that's funny. The Vehicons and Eradicons were about as lively as a bag of bolts. There was always Dreadwing but he was First Lieutenant now so he'd just go crying to Megatron.

There was no one here to talk to!

As much as I hated to admit it, I missed Breakdown. We both escaped from Cybertron together and it was his ship so I did owe him a debt of gratitude for that. He was probably my only companion since Polyphony in medical school. Half-way through the war Breakdown and I had met on a battlefield. He was an ex-Wrecker with a past in the Pits and I was a medical school drop out from the Pits. Somehow, we fit together in every way but sexually. He pined after another ex-Wrecker (not so) secretly. Sure, we would indulge in the occasional frag but we just weren't right for each other.

Still, I missed making fun of the ship's crew with him. I missed the conversations about life back on Cybertron and I missed the times we would just escape this ship and go out racing. He was a bulkier model so he never won but it was nice to put my tires to a road with someone there. He was probably the only Decepticon I trusted and now he was…gone.

I shook away the thoughts. It was best not to dwell on my lost colleague. Back to the matter at hand, which was just as depressing but with a dash of sexual frustration. I had almost sent Ratchet another transmission a thousand times during these long weeks; thankfully, I had persisted in being distant.

Still…

Was he thinking about me? I couldn't get him out of my processor. He had pushed his way into my processor like a scraplet and was constantly eating away at my sanity. I wanted to feel him again. It was a desire so strong that it made my knees weak and my spark ache. I couldn't understand it; I had never felt anything like it before.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the med-bay door opening. I was shocked to find Dreadwing walking towards me, that stoic look on his broad faceplate. I straightened slowly, allowing myself to stretch out my tired back struts leisurely. Oddly enough, Dreadwing's optics flowed down my form in appreciation. Was he…checking me out?

"What can I do for you, Dreadwing?" I ask, meeting him halfway across the room.

He looked like he had just gotten back from a mission, probably one dealing with the Autobots, because he was covered in dirt. "My wing," he states bluntly, turning so I can see the large cut across the sensitive wing. I wince in sympathy; those wounds were never fun.

I gesture for him to sit down while I go get my tools. "Another run-in with the Autobots?" I ask casually, setting up a side table to keep all my things organized.

"Yes," he affirms, not even flinching when I start working on his damaged wing. "Another energon scouting mission. They found out and ambushed us." My optics stayed glued to the slash across the mech's wing. "They've been winning more energon deposits since Breakdown's unfortunate accident."

My servos clenched lightly on their own making him grunt. "Sorry," I mutter, easing up on his wing. Breakdown's death was still a sore wound on my processor. My only companion since medical school and he had been killed by that traitorous bitch Arachnid. Did I really blame her though? No, not really, I blamed Megatron. He saw Arachnid as a threat to his position and sent Dreadwing and Breakdown after her.

He stays silent for the rest of the procedure, thankfully. I didn't want to think about Breakdown or Arachnid. Actually, working on his wing was probably the best way to get my processor off of every mech or femme within this Primus forsaken war. I was starting to question Megatron's wisdom. Once, I never questioned him because I believed in his cause. With the sacrifice of Breakdown…I wasn't sure.

"Finished," I say once the wing was stitched up and glossy again. "It might be a little tender for the next few days but your internal systems should fix the rest of it." I turned around to wipe the little bit of energon on my servos.

My motions froze when I felt a chest plate press against my back, two servos clenching my hips tightly. Spark pounding, I tried to turn to face the mech but his grip was like iron. "What are you doing?" I ask, being pushed against the table as he gets that much closer.

His lips press against my audio receptor slowly. "Showing my thanks," he whispers in his deep husky voice.

"You could just say thank you," I retort, struggling to move away from him.

He keeps his servos where they are and I can't help but feel trapped. "Yes, but that would be boring," he chuckles darkly, running his lips across my sensitive neck cables slowly. I try to swat at him with the back of my servo but he quickly takes my wrist and pulls it behind my back. My yelp was lost as I was bent over one of the medical berths, cheek pressing into the metal harshly. He leans over my body, pressing his interface panel up against my aft, running his free servo up my side. "I'm not being too rough am I?" he asks mockingly. "I was told you liked to be dominated."

My struggling stops. He was right. Ratchet had done the same thing just a few weeks ago and I had practically begged him for it. Maybe having a partner just like him in the berth would get the slagged medic out of my processor. Just an hour ago, I had been thinking about Ratchet doing much the same thing to me so what was the difference between him and Dreadwing?

I look over my shoulder at the smirking mech with my own leer. "I'm just afraid you're all talk and no action," I whisper sensually, stretching out on the berth to give him a pretty picture to look at.

"Oh, I can promise I'm more action than talk," he growls with a dark look in his shining optics.

Spark pounding, I make my decision. "Prove it."

His servo releases my wrist once I confirm that I'll behave and it immediately drops to fondle my aft. His other servo wraps around to run across the seam of my panel. My body automatically heats in response but it's nothing like with Ratchet. Just having him pressed against my back would cause me to start lubricating; instead, it took direct contact to my panel to get me revved.

It wasn't until the image of Ratchet throwing me up against a wall popped into my processor that my fans click on with fervor. Dreadwing chuckles in appreciation, thinking my response was because of his touches. I couldn't help but replace the flier's servo with Ratchet's, large and nimble, as my panel opens on its own. He strokes up my spike but I'm not with Dreadwing anymore.

The body was bulky just like Ratchet's but the servos were not as talented so I just kind of coasted through the whole thing. Dreadwing was faking this whole thing. This was just to get his bolts off; it wasn't to satisfy my strange fetish. Instead, I envisioned Ratchet the entire time, which brought me more pleasure than the less than adequate spike pumping into my valve.

I at least felt my overload coming over me when he started to speed up. I thought about Ratchet's lips pressing against my back, his servos gripping my hips violently as he touches my deepest nodes. Oh Primus, so close…so close…

I sigh when Dreadwing overloads, leaving me a mass of still aroused mech. He pulls out and I nearly snap at him but just pretend that I had enjoyed the entire thing. Ratchet would never leave me wanting, never. I'm sure, hypothetically speaking of course, if he hadn't managed to frag me into overload, like that would ever happen, then he would do everything possible to cause it to happen.

After Dreadwing left, I sat in the med-bay by myself, aroused and frustrated, for a long while. Would no one be able to satisfy me like Ratchet? Was my fetish really that strange?

Growling, I stand up and storm out of the med-bay.

* * *

><p>I'm not sure why I was heading back to the cave. No transmission had come in but I just needed to get away from the base and enjoy some alone time away from everyone. If I knew a way to reach the mech, I would send him my own transmission but I didn't want to risk Soundwave finding out. I couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't contacted me yet. What was going through his processor?<p>

Once I was in the shelter of the tall trees, I transformed into my bipedal form, pausing, when a strange noise reached my sensitive audio receptors. It was muddled but I would recognized that vocal frequency anywhere so I crept forward until I came to the entrance of the cave. The sun was at just the right angle to shed some light into the recess and what I saw made my fans threaten to kick on.

Knockout was laid out on a rock ledge near the back, his legs were bent and spread right towards me. He had three of his lithe fingers pressing in and out of his valve while his other servo was stroking his spike. The noises were actually him gasping and moaning as he pleasured himself and I think I nearly glitched from the sight.

My internals were getting hotter by the second as his fingers thrust in and out of his own valve, lubricants dripping down to the rock. I watched for a few minutes before I got the feeling that his self-service wasn't doing him any good. His noises were desperate but his body wasn't getting any closer to release until he finally gave up and threw his servos in the air with a near scream of frustration.

Smirking, I slipped into the cave without a sound. I was a bulky mech but I was also one trained in the art of war so I knew how to get around a battlefield undetected. He never saw me coming until I was hovering over him and by then it was too late. "Ratchet!" he yelps as I move in between his legs.

My servos pin his arms to the rock ledge. "You know you could have sent me a transmission," I drawl across his audio receptor languidly. "Then you wouldn't have to settle for getting your own bolts off."

His body shuddered under mine as his optics slipped closed in bliss. "Shut up and frag me," he tries to command but it's kind of hard when his spike is pressed in-between our bodies.

"Not until you tell me why you came out here by yourself," I say with the commanding tone he had wanted. His optics snap open again to stare up at me with a mixture of emotions. "Have you been interfacing with someone else?"

His faceplate said it all and I couldn't quite explain the pain that coursed through my spark at that very moment. It was like someone was trying to rip it right out of its casing. Primus, did it hurt. The thought of him underneath someone else, very much like this, was disconcerting.

"Wait, then why are you out here?" I ask, looking down at the painfully hard spike between us. My pain disappeared with a sudden understanding. "Not cuttin' it for you?"

He squirms slightly under my servos and looks away in shame. "It was only once, earlier, but…as you can see…" he bucks his hips to drag his soaked valve across my panel languorously. I can't help the low moan that slips from my lips, the smirk on his face dangerously attractive. "He didn't finish."

Releasing one of his arms, I run a servo slowly down his chest. "And I guess you want me to finish what he started?" I smirk, leaning down to kiss his headlights lightly. His back arches into my touch, the moan he uttered making my engines rev loudly.

Slipping down his form, I ease off of the ledge to my knees. I throw his legs over my shoulders and lean forward to run my glossa across the rim of his valve. His reaction was nearly violent as he clenches his thighs against the side of my helm tightly. My glossa presses into his valve, enjoying the echoing gasp that the red mech releases as I run the tip across his nodes.

He was really close, I could taste his coming overload and hear it in his vocalizations as he clenched his servos against my helm harder. He tilts over the edge when I slip two fingers into his valve with my glossa, thrusting hard into him. "Frag, Ratchet!" he screams, back arching beautifully off of the platform as his overload shudders through his entire body.

Pulling away, I allow him to ride out his overload. His faceplate was gorgeous when he was in the midst of pleasure and I couldn't help but feel pride for accomplishing something his other lover couldn't.

He slouches against the ledge venting air quickly, transfluid glistening on his red armor. I couldn't help but find him absolutely striking, though, back on Cybertron he had been a secret envy of even the upper-class. How he had become so beautiful and sleek in such a low-class way of life was beyond me but it obviously had something to do with his Creators. I would have loved to have met them.

I was so distracted by my thoughts that I didn't see him sit up. His lips on mine were smothering but I gladly leaned into the embrace to ravish his mouth harshly. His glossa worked with mine while I easily slipped up onto the ledge with him. He shifts backwards to give me more room until I am pressed right up between his legs.

Pulling away, I take his legs and throw them over my shoulders again. My panel snicks open to release my aching spike from its casing and I can't help the sigh of relief that slips from me as my tip brushes across his valve. His groan was long and drawn out as I ease my tip in teasingly. He was more than ready for me but I wanted to drag out his second overload as long as I could.

"Primus, Ratchet, please!" he begs shamelessly, trying to squirm against my spike. I press his arms down by his side before slamming into his valve roughly. "Frag!" His vocals crack with static as I start a heavy and hard rhythm that has him rocking against the ledge.

My fans were whirling so loudly and he wasn't even trying to muffle his vocalizations as I found that I probably wasn't going to last as long as I had originally planned. Sometimes I forgot I was an old model and not in my first century of life anymore. Knockout's valve was already starting to spasm around me though as I shifted his legs over to one shoulder.

The change in angle had Knockout's vocalizer glitching with pleasure as I was able to hit a large bundle of sensors repeatedly. His servos were clawing at the rock under him as he bucked his hips against my rough thrusts. "Ratchet, don't-don't stop!" he begs with a stuttered moan. "Oh, I'm going to-"

His scream was met with my own groan as his valve clamps down on my spike mercilessly, causing me to overload. My vision went white for just a second before I slouched against the mech, exhausted. He shifts to get comfortable and wraps his arms around my neck, holding me against his spark chamber.

Too bad our post-overload bliss didn't last long.

"Well, well," I hear a familiar vocalizer drawl. My helm jerks up to see Dreadwing standing in the entrance of the cave, arms crossed over his chest. "I wondered where you were sneaking off too, Knockout, and now I see."

* * *

><p>He followed me? Slag, I thought I had been more discreet than that. Then again, I hadn't expected Ratchet to show up either. Now we were both in a long of slag. There was no other exit to the cave and Dreadwing was too much for either of us to handle on our own. Scrap, where was Breakdown when you needed him?<p>

"Then again, I must thank you, Knockout. You've given me the perfect chance to take out the Autobot medic," he smirks holding up his cannon with a smirk. "Get up, both of you." We slowly slipped from our ledge to stand next to each other at the back of the cave. I couldn't help but feel like a sitting target as Dreadwing came closer to completely block the entrance. "It's too bad Knockout, you're pretty good in the berth. I'd like to have continued to use you."

I smacked his servo away as it came up to try and touch my faceplate. "I wish I could say the same for you," I say in a snidely, earning a swift punch to the face. As I fall back, I hear Ratchet gasp my name. I'm pretty sure he tried to reach for me but all I heard was the sound of someone being thrown up against a wall.

My optics went offline for a few moments before they rebooted so I could see Dreadwing pressing Ratchet to the wall with one giant forearm. Ratchet's windpipe was cut off but he just glared defiantly down at the first lieutenant. I pushed myself up onto my knees but Dreadwing had his cannon trained very close to Ratchet's helm, cutting me off from doing anything.

"You know," the flier starts, staring down with a smirk at the medic. "I captured an Autobot a while back who asked about you." Ratchet looks the mech square in the faceplate in confusion. "She was a flier…oh, what was her name? Oh yes, Polyphony."

Polyphony had been an Autobot? Both of us perk up at her name but I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my spark. She had been captured…by Dreadwing. That didn't bode well for the end of this story. She had to be dead. There's no way anyone could survive a run-in with the first lieutenant and live to tell the tale.

"She was a feisty little medic. Put up a good fight," he continues on even as Ratchet's optics show the same realization that I had just made. "Too bad she ended up just like all the Autobots in my interrogation room."

My spark sank. The only femme I had ever related to back in medical school was dead, taken out by the mech standing in front of me. She had been a good femme with an open mind. I always thought she had died at the beginning of the war and I think I would rather hear that than know she had died slow and painfully. It was a sad way to go and I would know, I had sent plenty of mechs and femmes to their Maker that way.

"Too bad I can't draw your death out too," he smirks as I hear his cannon start to heat up.

I am on my pedes in seconds but before I can a shot rings out. My audio receptors reboot in shock as I see that the shot hadn't come from Dreadwing but from the entrance of the cavern. Standing in the light was a flier and for a second I thought it was Starscream. When I looked closer, it was actually a femme jet with a black, chrome and red paintjob that stood out against her red optics.

Dreadwing's grip on Ratchet loosened enough for him to get away as the hulking flier recovers. "Who the slag?" he snaps, looking up just as another round hits him in the shoulder, knocking him back.

The femme stays silent as she takes a step forward, her cannon whirling as it recharged. "That femme was my twin, you piece of slag," she states, rather calmly, in a voice that is familiar but unique all on its own.

Ratchet dodges out of the way as another blast is shot, coming closer to me. His arms wrap around my form and press me up against the wall as more shots were fired. The sound is oppressive to my audio receptors just as I look over Ratchet's shoulder to see the femme with a blade out engaging the mech. She was fast and fierce so she must be Fatale, Polyphony's twin from the Pits. She fought like a Pit-born warrior; sounded like one too as she roared through her attacks.

"You okay?" Ratchet asks, touching my faceplate lightly where a small dent and scratch were.

"I'm fine," I say, out of breath from the excitement even as he leans down to kiss my lips before moving away. We watched as the two warriors fought it out with blades drawn. I was shocked to see Dreadwing being backed into a corner but, then again, he hadn't been raised in the Pits like Fatale.

In a flash, someone else was throwing themselves into the battle and I blinked as I saw Wheeljack's blades join the match. It almost seemed like Wheeljack and Fatale knew each other as they fought like a pair of twins themselves. It was unfair that two strong warriors were cornering Dreadwing but I couldn't care less.

"Get out of here!" Wheeljack commands at us before he is brought back into the battle by the flier.

"Come on," Ratchet says, grabbing my wrist to tug me towards the door.

"No you don't!" I hear Dreadwing scream just as he fires his cannon at us.

Everything went in slow motion. Yeah, corny, I know, but one second I'm looking at Dreadwing and the next I'm shoving Ratchet out of the way of the blast. Then, pain, my name being screamed and darkness.

"Hey, I think he's waking up," I hear a feminine voice say as my systems slowly start to reboot. My optics were the last thing to come online and when they did I came to see a faceplate I never thought I'd see again.

"Polyphony?" I ask, skeptically. "Am I dead?"

She laughs lightly, her bright optics full of content relief. "No, you're very much alive," she smiles, helping me to sit up slowly. "Dreadwing was blowing smoke out of his port; I was rescued before he could finish me off."

I look at her for a few minutes. She didn't look any different, physically at least. I could see the years in her optics, as I was sure she could see them in mine as well, but she was…happier somehow. Then, I saw her twin standing not too far off, watching us closely. She was with her sister; that's why she was happy. I know twins get a little antsy when they aren't around each other for long periods of time.

"And where is he now?" I question slowly.

Fatale is the one to answer. "Dead." As easy as that.

"Oh, well," I whisper before looking around at my surroundings. "Where am I?"

Polyphony sits on the berth next to me, easing me back against the wall gently. "You're in the Autobot base," she answers easily, shocking the frag out of me. "Before you say anything, Optimus instructed Ratchet to bring you here."

My processor seems to have a hard time processing all of the new information as I stare at the femme. "Why?"

"Because," I hear the distinctive voice of the Prime say from the doorway. "I trust Ratchet and if he believes in you than so do I."

I look up at the Prime in confusion. "Believes in me? I don't understand," I say, feeling like a bumbling idiot.

Polyphony lays her servo on my arm. "Dreadwing was sent by Megatron to destroy you, Knockout," she tells me bluntly.

He was sent to kill me. Just like Breakdown was sent to kill Arachnid. I couldn't wrap my processor around the thought but somehow…it made perfect sense. Megatron was insane, had been for a very long time but I never, not once, thought he would try to take me out. Who was next? Soundwave?

"That being said," Fatale states from her place leaned against the wall. "We want you to be an Autobot but…" Her tone was harsh and blunt, just like her sisters, but there was less understanding there. She didn't know me; all she knew was my sigil so it was understandable. "If you were to betray us…"

She trailed off, allowing me to fill in the blanks.

"What are all of you doing in here?" Ratchet asks as he walks into the room with a datapad in his servo. "Get out! Go!" The three visitors chuckle as they are shooed out of the room by the medic. He huffs irritated as he turns back to me. "You would think they couldn't wait for you to wake up." I can't help the smile that crosses my faceplate as he sits down next to me on the berth. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than before," I chuckle, moving a bit to make sure there wasn't any pain. "How bad was it?"

He looks to the side. "Pierced the side of your spark chamber…any closer and it would have nicked our spark," he explains, making my spark pound in the realization of how close I had been to death.

I look down at my servos just as the medic leans over to wrap his arms around my form. My body freezes in shock. It wasn't an intimate hug, by any means, but it still made my spark thunder in its chamber. His EM field brushed mine so smoothly, as if our fields were made to mix. It was comfortable and I leaned into the touch unconsciously.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispers, pulling away just enough to kiss me. It was…different than usual. It was slow, deliberate but still full of passion. It made my spark throb happily in my chest. How could he do this to me? How could he make me feel all of these things.

When he pulls away, he cups my faceplate in his servos and stares down into my optics. "Does this mean I'm an Autobot?" I chuckle, pressing my forehead against his.

"Only if you want to be," he smiles gently. "Either way, you have to stay here. You're not welcome with the Decepticons anymore."

I feel my old self slowly starting to return as I smirk smartly. "Am I welcome in your berth?" I tease playfully, earning a mocked sigh of frustration. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him down until his body is covering mine. "Come on, doctor, let me tell you where it hurts."

He laughs softly, kissing me again, this time more like usual. It set my panel on fire as his glossa slipped into my mouth slowly. "I'm more worried about what's going to hurt after I'm done with my check-up," he teases, running his fingers down my sides lightly.

"Mm," I hum in appreciation, arching into him as his lips find my neck. "I hope so."

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><p><strong>The<strong> **End**

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><p>AN: Okay, sorry that took so long! Everything music-wise piled up all at once! I finally got some time to myself and it was much needed! Sometimes I think that college is actually glorified high school! xD

Anyways, here we go! I rewrote this chapter like three times because I couldn't get the ending where I wanted it to be! I like it now though!

I had to put Polyphony and Fatale in there to tie up loose ends! xD I hate leaving things unanswered!

I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks again to all the people who reviewed! I really appreciate it! They make my day when I'm neck deep in drama!

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><p><strong><span>Next Pairing<span>**

RatchetxBumblebee

(I'm doing a contest for Deviantart that has to have Bumblebee so I thought I'd knock out two things in one!)


	14. Quanta Fede Ce

**Quanta fede c'è**

Universe: Prime

Pairings: RatchetxBumblebee

Rating: MA+/R

Warnings: Smut.

Description: Bumblebee has just lost his vocalizer and hasn't been seen in the base for a long time. Ratchet goes to comfort the young warrior.

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><p>"Hey, Ratchet," I hear someone call as I turn around.<p>

It was Cliffjumper and Arcee who walked into the med-bay looking casual and relaxed as usual. I could never understand how the younger 'bots were so nonchalant about this war. I was constantly on edge, which was probably why I had gotten a bad reputation for being grouchy, but I couldn't help it when I was continuously wondering who was going to be on my operating table next. Younger 'bots just seemed to bounce back no matter what happened.

"Yes?" I ask, going back to the datapad with the recent parts that were needed for tune-ups. How was I supposed to find all of these parts? I'd have to talk to Optimus about getting them through…alternative means. I almost sighed; Prowl wasn't going to be happy to know his spark-mate was going out on another sabotage mission so soon.

"Have you seen Bumblebee lately?" Cliffjumper questions, looking over my shoulder.

I shoo him away with a servo while turning around to look at the two of them. "No, why?"

"Seriously, Doc," the red mech says, taking the datapad away from my servos. It was a bold move so I gave them my full attention. "We haven't seen him since…the accident."

I try to keep my faceplate from heating in embarrassment at the mention of the accident. That's right…Bumblebee didn't have a vocalizer because of my inefficient servos. "He hasn't been to get his daily energon?" I ask, suddenly concerned. Both of them shake their head. "Alright, I'll go see him."

On my way, I had to tell First Aid to take my place in the med-bay and pick up a cube of energon for the young mech. Primus only knew how long he had gone without energon. Thankfully, his room wasn't too far from the med-bay so it was a one-way trip. I needed some time away from the med-bay anyway. Ever since Bumblebee's capture, I had been running myself ragged.

His door is closed when I walk up, which was odd for the mech. He usually kept his door open for anyone to come in. He was just that kind of personality, always welcoming and always willing to talk. I wince. Well, he wouldn't do much talking, in the normal sense, for a long time.

"Bumblebee, it's me, Ratchet, may I come in?" I call through the medal door after a brief, loud knock. Silence is all I hear from inside the room. "Bumblebee, please open the door."

It wasn't like me to be gentle and patient but it did the trick as the door slid open to show an exhausted-looking mech. The once bright, loveable youngling was now covered in scrapes and dents and his optics were dim. He whirls weakly at me.

"I know you don't want to take it but you have to," I respond, moving into the room so the door can close behind me. "Sit down." I watch him amble over to the berth and slump down limply. I set up the needle easily before walking over to the slouching mech, taking his arm gently. He makes a painful noise as I inject the energon straight into his system. "I know it hurts but you need energon everyday."

He nods his helm slowly but doesn't say anything so I sit down next to him for a moment. The silence is oppressive but after a while he presses his servos to his faceplate in defeat. His binary is rapid and painful to listen to. He was finding it hard to get used to his new faceplate and, honestly, he was second guessing whether he was attractive to look at anymore. He loved to talk before his vocalizer was destroyed and it hurt to hear him talk like he was absolutely hideous.

I touch his arm gently. "Don't say those things, 'Bee," I whisper, not really good at these sorts of things. I was a doctor of the form not of the processor. "You're still extremely attractive. It'll just take time to get used to the change."

His flurry of binary was hard to decipher but it all came down to two words. "You're lying."

My faceplate heated with anger so suddenly it surprised even me. Impetuous youth, didn't he know better than to question his elders? My processor was on fire with my frustration that I didn't have time to stop myself from shoving the mech back against the berth, straddling his hips easily. He gave a loud, high-pitched yelp, his servos pressing against my shoulders as I glared down at him; his question was fast and clipped. "Proving to you that you're not hideous," I snap a little too harshly before dipping down.

Normally, I would have kissed him first but instead I went for his neck cables, which were the next best thing. He squeals in surprise as my glossa dips under cables to touch sensitive sensors, my servos running down his chassis to rake down his headlights. He gives a kind of binary moan that makes my engine rev in appreciation. His voice had been musical but this was…actually sexy too. I had never interfaced before him but I could imagine his noises had been…delicious.

His fingers clench against my shoulders and I smirk when his hips buck up into mine as my denta nip at his neck playfully. I let my lips trail down his chest to lick at the contours of his spark chamber, enjoying the mewling sounds that came from his destroyed vocalizer. His hips bucked to grind our interface panels together wantonly. It had my fans kicking on as my interface equipment pinged their ready at me.

He seemed rather ready as I slipped further down his body until I was dipping my fingers into the joint where his leg and hip met. His response was violent as he jerks his hips up, squeaking in a pleading way for more. "Primus, I love hearing you beg," I whisper against his pelvic plating. Dipping my fingers into that seam yet again, I search out to find the switch to manually open his interface panel.

His valve was dripping with lubricants as I let my fingers run across the outer rim lightly. He gives a metallic groan that has my own panel popping open to pressurize my spike. Leaning forward to brush my lips across his audio receptors and my spike across his valve. His binary lilts lightly in pleasure. "Feel that?" I rasp into his receptors roughly. "I don't pressurize so quickly for someone that's hideous."

I hear him try to compose a binary response just as my finger presses into his valve slowly. His retort falls into static as pleasure takes over as I thrust into my valve, spreading his legs further to get better access. "I can't wait to burry myself in your tight valve, 'Bee," I breathe to him softly. His body shudders as his servos clench tightly into my shoulders, keeping me close to him. I can feel his hard spike twitching between our forms as I press another finger into his valve, stretching him out.

Even if it was in binary, his begging for me to frag him was still sexy. I quickly added another finger into his valve to give him that much more preparation before sitting back. My servos dragged the mech up until he was situated on my crossed legs in my lap, hovering over my stiff spike. He stares down at me, his knees straddling me as I drag my fingers down his door wings harshly. His binary wail was music as I situate myself against the wall, moving his hips to rub his valve along my spike teasingly.

"Come on, 'Bee, show me how beautiful you are," I drawl in his receptor.

He whines as he lowers himself down onto my spike, dragging a moan from my throat easily. Wet, tight heat wraps around my spike as I stretch him out, enjoying the feel of his servos clenching at my shoulders desperately. His pace is steady and before I know it, he is full seated in my lap with me buried deep within his valve. His body is shivering with pleasure as he allows himself to adjust.

Teasingly, I jerk my hips up, causing him to squeak in surprise. His optics glare down at me but I just repeat the motion, dragging another metallic moan from him. He gets the hint and starts to rock his hips back and forth; the friction was fantastic as I tilted my helm back against the wall to moan. The sight of him rocking in my lap couldn't be beaten by anything I had ever seen and I couldn't help but grip his hips to encourage him along.

I palm his door wings, sending him into a faster pace that has my fans blaring loudly. I couldn't understand how he could look at himself and not see how beautiful he was. It wasn't just that he was bouncing in my lap, taking my spike fast and hard, it was that he was a gorgeous mech. His body was sleek but broad all at the same time and his optics were bright and full of genuine emotions. His body was beautiful and so was his personality.

'Bee cried for more and I shifted him slightly so that he could wrap his legs around my waist to give me complete control. Slipping my servos under his aft, I lifted him then pressed him down into my bucking hips, fragging him faster and harder than before. He screams in binary, throwing his head back in utter ecstasy that has me jerking up harder. I wanted him to go offline with his overload; I wanted to erase all of the self-doubt out of his processor.

Leaning forward, I bit into his neck cables to tip him over the edge. He squeals out, valve clenching around my spike roughly, transfluid splashing across our chests. I gasp his name as, with one last deep thrust, I spill my own transfluid into his valve. My servos keep his hips down, keeping me buried inside of him, as his valve spasms around my overloading spike.

He slumps against my body, venting air through his fans to cool his core temperature. I lean back against the wall, doing the same thing as my old body starts to protest. Sometimes I tended to forget that I wasn't a young model anymore. I was going to be hurting in the morning but…honestly, it was worth it.

Not just because I got a good frag out of it either. Bumblebee needed some comfort and sometimes it came in the physical form. Besides, didn't I owe it to him? After all, it was because of my neglect that he couldn't speak properly. At least I could do this for him.

"You'd better never think that again," I pant in a soft command as he pulls away to stare into my optics. He whirls and whines in binary, making me chuckle. "Yes, or I'll have to punish you again."

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><p><strong><span>The End<span>**

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><p>AN: This is my submission for a contest on Deviantart. A quick little one shot that took very little time but I couldn't help myself! xD I love 'Bee but I'm not a huge RatchetxBee fan, honestly. I'd rather put 'Bee with Knockout or Optimus.

Anyways, I'm happy with how it turned out! The title means _When shadows fill our day_ from The Prayer by Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli. I just love that song! Plus, the flute is beautiful in it! ;D

I hope you enjoyed it! And thanks to everyone for their reviews!

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><p><strong>Next Pairing<strong>

RatchetxMegatron

Or

SkyquakexRatchetxDreadwing

(I need some darkness next! XD)


	15. Let Yourself Fall: Part One

**Let Yourself Fall**

Universe: Prime

Pairings: MegatronxRatchet, (slight) MegatronxRatchetxSoundwave

Rating: R/MA+

Description: Being captured by the Decepticons is never a good thing but it's even worse when their leader becomes interested in you. Now, Ratchet finds himself in a stick situation where being captured means a little more.

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><p>I gasp as water is thrown into my faceplate, effectively jousting me into consciousness. Sputtering, I look around at the unfamiliar surroundings, trying to remember how I had gotten here. My spark clenched in fear as I realized that I was dangling from chains dropping from the ceiling that were connected to the stasis cuffs locked around my wrists. I also had ankle shackles that connected to the floor. I was pretty sure my wrists were numb from hanging from them because I couldn't feel any pain where I should.<p>

The room had one light, which was right above me, spilling light down my form and shrouding everything else in impenetrable darkness. There were only two places I could be right now and neither were very good for my health. This was either the Nemesis or one of MECH's hideouts. Sadly, I wished for the first choice a little more. At least on the Nemesis I had a better chance of being rescued.

My optics jerk up when I heard a door open, shedding just a bit of light on the silhouette of Knockout. I couldn't help but internal sigh of relief, I was on the Nemesis, at least. I knew I was going to be interrogated but I was the wrong 'bot to get in their clutches for information. Sure, I knew all of the technology and the location of the base but I wouldn't say anything, no matter what. I could handle a bit of pain without giving anything away.

"Well, well," the red racer drawls, walking forward with his taser prod in his servo. "I never thought I'd get the Autobot medic in my interrogation room. You may leave." I watch as a drone quietly walks out of the darkness through the door, holding the large pail. Knockout's smirk was dangerous and I had to remind myself that this mech was one of Megatron's best interrogators. I knew he had, at one time, gone to medical school so he knew just as much anatomy as I did which meant he knew what would hurt the most. "I'm going to have a lot of fun with you."

The door opened again just as he was getting closer, making the two of us jump slightly. "Megatron," I whisper, staring at the hulking, giant of a mech as he walks into the pool of light.

He had a smirk on his faceplate even as Knockout looks at him in confusion. "Sir?" the twisted medic questions.

"You may leave, Knockout. I will handle the medic," he rumbles in his deep, intimidating vocalizer that sends shivers down my spinal struts. Knockout hesitates, obviously thinking he would get the pleasure of ripping me limb from limb, before turning and strutting out of the room without a word.

I stare at the leader of the Decepticons with what I hoped was a confident expression. My processor went back to the time when his servo had nearly ripped my spark out. He could do a lot of damage to me without even thinking about it and he had suddenly taken a liking to me at the most inopportune time. It didn't bode well for me.

"Knockout is a fine interrogator," he finally speaks up, crossing his colossal arms over his spark chamber casually. "But, you and I both know that no matter what he does…you'll never crack. Isn't that right?"

His level-headed evaluation of the situation shocked me but I couldn't help the glare on my faceplate. "That's right," I say, proud when my vocalizer doesn't crack. There was something more to this, I could hear it in his tone of voice.

He nods his helm, confirming some thought in his processor. "I guess, I could torture you until death just for fun and dump your mangled body at your Prime's pedes," he ponders slowly, a badly hidden glee in his voice. It had my internals shaking but I remained solid on the outside; it would kill Optimus to see me treated with such cruelty. "I could just kill you and completely destroy your body, to save some time…" He started circling the room, slowly, like the predator he was and I couldn't help but tense when he disappeared out of my sight.

He kept listing off horrible things that he could to do to me, surely trying to crack my resolve but I stayed firm. I let my processor settle on the fact that I was probably going to die. At least then I wouldn't be sabotaging my faction with leaked information. If Bumblebee could hold his vocalizer in Megatron's grasp then so could I. It was about time for me to meet the Well anyways; I was old and tired of this war.

"Sadly, those are not anywhere near what I'm going to do to you," he finalizes, making my spark clench dangerously. "No, it would be a waste to kill you." His long, sharp finger runs down my cheek languorously as his optics take in my appearance. "You're not the best looking mech but I've heard Medics are quite…talented."

My processor stopped running for a few seconds. "What the slag are you talking about?" I finally ask, trying to jerk away when his servo ran down my neck then to my spark chamber. My body shuddered in a mixture of disgust and pleasure when his digits brushed across my interface panel. I was horrified by the look in the mech's optics but even more terrified by the spark of heat that rushed through my form at his touch. It was normal because I hadn't been intimate with anyone in a very long time but it was a betrayal that my body would even think Megatron's touch to be pleasing.

"Ever since Starscream ran off," he slowly drawls, his fingers tracing the seams of my traitorous panel lazily. "I've been in need of a new…pet."

I try to pull away from him instinctively even as one of his servos wraps around my waist to keep me stationary. "I will never be your frag-toy, Megatron!" I protest even as my panel flares with heat in response to the feel of his servo rubbing over it lightly.

His red optics look down at me in mild amusement. "You have no choice, Medic," he chuckles darkly as I feel myself being lowered closer to the floor. Feeling floods back into my wrists as my pedes touch the ground and I am able to hold myself up; pinpricks of feeling makes my sensors explode with pain as energon rushes through those deprived struts freely. "It's either me or I'll just give you to the Eradicons and Vehicons."

My faceplate must have shown my horror because he laughs heartily at me. "That's right, it's either one or many. Make your pick, Medic," he mocks with a nasty smirk that has my metal crawling. What was there to pick between? Both were horrible choices to lead the rest of your life and I wasn't sure how long it would be before Optimus found me. I connected optics with the warlord but he already knew my choice. "Don't worry, Medic, Starscream didn't leave for lack of pleasure."

His promise was rasped straight into my audio receptor before his servo was shoving me down to my knees, the chains lowering to compensate. I try to keep myself from grimacing as I find myself looking right at the overlord's closed panel. My fuel tanks churned when I heard the mechanisms start to shift before his panel pulls away and his spike pressurizes right in front of my face. My optics widen when I see that his equipment was proportional to his body size; in other words, he was massive.

I couldn't imagine that fitting in my valve, at all. "Now, let's see what that mouth can do," he smirks, placing a servo on my helm to pull me closer.

My body protests at first and I have to remind myself that I could have several drone spikes in my face instead of just one right now. It gives me the motivation I need to lean forward, running my glossa across the underside of the large, twitching spike. He tastes like heat and electricity as I lick all the way up to the tip, adding the flavor of transfluid to the experience. It isn't a foul taste but it wasn't pleasant either as I took his tip into my mouth to suck lightly.

His servo tightens on my helm in coordination with the low growl of approval. As awkward as this was without my servos, I lowered my mouth across his spike. There was no way I would be able to take all of his spike into my mouth, so I just took as much as I could. The servo on my helm urged me into a bobbing motion that was slow at first, my mouth sucking the entire length.

"I think you can take more than that, Medic," he growls dangerously before pushing my helm down further on his spike. I gag, trying to pull back but his servo is too strong only easing up so that I could slide back before he was shoving me down again. "That's better."

I felt powerless as he decided the pace with his servo and I tried to keep up. My jaw was aching by the time he started to push me faster but I was glad it was almost over. I kept the pressure up on his spike until he was grunting with the pace and I could almost taste his overload.

With one last shove, he presses my helm down as he releases his transfluid down the back of my throat causing me to choke slightly. He doesn't let up until he is done and only then does he let my helm fall away, my breaths coming out ragged and labored. "Not too bad, Medic," he states, letting his panel close. "I'm sure you'll get better at it."

Then he was gone.

I worked my jaw a bit when he left feeling as if the hinges were somehow damaged. I run a diagnostic to make sure they are fine before trying to stand up. The chains connected to the floor had retracted so I couldn't move from my current position and my knees were starting to hurt. He wasn't just going to leave me like this, was he?

My question was soon answered when the door swished open again. It wasn't Megatron though. Soundwave was an easy silhouette to distinguish from the other Decepticons but that didn't make him any less dangerous. Megatron walked in behind him with that smug grin on his faceplate, yet again. "Open your panel for Soundwave, Medic," he commands without any preamble. I glance over my shoulder at the third-in-command, confused. "Do it."

Knowing there would be slag to pay, I pop my panel open after a moment of hesitation. I feel myself being lifted up by my chains again before I am standing on my pedes. It takes the stress off of my knees so I am rather content until I feel Soundwave get closer. What could Soundwave possibly want with my panel?

I jump when I feel something at my valve and it takes me a second to realize it was the Third's finger touching my rim lightly. He pulls away though. Megatron's optics narrow before he nods his helm. "Fix it," he commands, confusing me. "Soundwave is going to insert a valve cap."

Valve cap? "I don't need a valve cap," I complain as Soundwave's presence looms behind me.

He smirks darkly. "It's a special kind of valve cap, Medic. It's one that doesn't just close off your valve; it has an attachment that inserts into your valve and expands every hour," he explains, walking forward just as I feel something brush against my valve. It sends a jolt of pleasure through my system just as something odd starts probing at the rim lightly. I lower my helm in shame as my valve starts to lubricate on its own. "Soundwave's appendages are good for encouraging lubrication, Medic. Does it feel good?"

I clench my denta together as the tentacle presses forward, breaching the walls of my valve slowly. My body was shuddering in pleasure but my processor was rejecting the idea of giving in to the pleasure. Megatron's servo wrapped around my neck to push my helm up so that I was looking into his fierce red optics. He was obviously enjoying my torment. Breaking our stare, he looks over my shoulder to nod his helm at his Third.

My processor can't stop the gasp of pleasure as the cord in my valve starts pumping deeper, stretching me pleasantly. I could feel the appendage wiggling in a way that was completely unlike a spike as it thrust in and out. Small wires at the end of the limb brushes across nodes on the inside of my valve, causing me to moan involuntarily.

Megatron's free servo wrapped around my pressurized spike and stroked it in rhythm with the feeler slamming in and out of me. My optics closed as I started panting, trying to get enough air to cool my overheated internals. Condensation dripped down my form as my overload started to creep up on me, building like water in a tide until I was so close.

That's when both pulled away. The servo on my spike and the limb in my valve both disappeared. I was embarrassed by the groan of disappointment, catching myself as I looked up at Megatron. He was smirking smugly before looking to Soundwave again. I jumped when something just a bit bigger than the tentacle was thrust into my valve and clicked into place.

I squirm at the odd feeling of the cap until Megatron's servo lifted my faceplate to look into his optics. "Soundwave, have some Eradicons transport him to my quarters," he instructs with a leer. "Five hours should be long enough to stretch him out."

They walked out of the room, leaving me to my discomfort. No matter how I shifted, the cap was just uncomfortable enough to be a constant reminder. I didn't have to wait long before the door opened and two Eradicons walked in to take me down off the chains. My wrists were pulled behind my back and cuffed before I was pushed out of the room.

The cap shifted uncomfortably in my valve as I tried to walk normally. I was almost positive that it was ribbed or textured because I could feel it brushing across sensors over and over again. It was annoying, arousing and highly distracting. The Eradicons were not slow either; they were nearly running down the hall to get me to a room at the far end of the Nemesis where everything started to get darker and more polished. There were several doors on either side but the last one was at the very end of the corridor with Kaon letters etched around the frame that was somehow beautiful even though it was servo-written.

They opened the door and ushered me into a large living area that was actually rather homey. This was where Megatron lived? I could hardly believe it. One whole wall was full of shelves with a large array of datapads lined up with several handwritten texts on the top shelves. Relics, of all ages and types, covered the room on tables or shelves and there were ancient paintings on the walls. There was another wall covered in pictures taken at the gladiator coliseum back in the Pit where Megatron, himself, was fighting. There were several others where I recognized Soundwave but not many other combatants.

I found myself mesmerized by them but I didn't have time to get a good look before I was being jerked further into the room. They opened a door on the far wall, which lead into an equally as large room with a Megatron-sized berth on the opposite end. I was thrown onto the berth before the chains connected to my cuffs were connected to the floor.

Then, I was alone.

Discomfort eased back in as I sat up, leaning back against the wall, which was really awkward with my servos pulled behind me, and looking around the room. It was just as personal as the living area outside but with more…intimacy. I hesitated to use that word but I saw pictures of the Pits on the wall across from me with femmes and mechs alike. There was a picture of a familiar femme, a sinewy seeker, standing with Megatron (Megatronus, at the time), talking with Soundwave. There were other Pit fighters around them but somehow they were the center of the picture. Megatron was obviously very young in the picture and he still had his blue optics so it must have been before he became a full fledged gladiator where they would be changed to red.

I felt myself wince when my optics shifted to the piece of metal hanging on the wall next to the picture. It was part of a wing, I guessed, with black paint and a red stripe. Looking at the picture, I would have to guess it belonged to the femme at one time. She was so familiar but I couldn't quite remember where I had seen her.

The last few years before the war started, I spent my time in politics, trying to set things straight. Optimus had needed a senator on the inside that could spread his beliefs but it was hard when all the other Primes enjoyed the hierarchy. They wanted to keep the 'lower-class' down where they belonged because that meant they could do whatever they wanted. The Pit fights were entertainment for them, an entertainment they didn't want to give up.

I averted my optics, not wanting to think about how the femme had lost her wing. My body jolted when my optics fell on the door where Megatron was standing, watching me. "Her name was Fatale," he explains, crossed arms tensing just so with his narrowing optics.

That's when it clicked. "I remember her," I whisper, staring at the picture as it started to dawn on me. Old memories of before the war started to register as I searched through them for her designation. She had been in the running for the Senate right before the war started; it was after I had been elected and I could remember really campaigning for her. She was one of those few upper-class femmes who wanted equal rights for every mech and femme.

Megatron's faceplate twists into a look of pure anger. It was strong and I felt myself wince as it was directed at me. "You have no clue who she was, Medic," he snaps roughly, touching the picture of her in a way that was almost gentle and with a longing that I had never seen from the warlord. "Fatale fought and died for us and our freedom; she put all of her time and energy into a belief that I didn't even believe in sometimes. You had no clue who she was."

His tone made me curious. I could hear how fond he was of this femme and the more memories I pulled up of her the more I realized that he was behind her the entire time. Whether she was at a party or a debate, he was standing just feet behind her, or even right next to her. "You loved her," it wasn't a question but I didn't expect him to shoot me the look he did. Could it have killed me, I would be six feet under.

"That is none of your business," he says but doesn't deny it either. I decided not to push him anymore. He had pretty much confirmed my suspicion and it was hard to imagine the warlord falling in love with a femme from an upper-class family. She was born into the family that owned the gladiator coliseum and when her Creators died in a tragic accident, she took over her Sire's place as the owner. Optimus had been hopeful of her involvement in the Politics but in the end she had been assassinated in her last debate. Another medic got to her first before I could as I was pushed back by the panicking masses but I knew the instant her spark went out. It was a sad loss.

The silence went on until he shook himself out of his memories and turned to look at me. His normal smirk was back on his faceplate as he moved to climb on the berth. I went to close my legs but his servos flipped me over effortlessly, my face being planted in the cushion of the berth as his fingers probed at the seam of my panel. My valve had gotten accustomed to the size of the cap but it throbbed to life at his touch.

"Let's see, it should be right about…" he leaned over my body so that his deep, rumbling voice vibrated through my body. If that wasn't bad enough, I gasped when the toy in my valve started to vibrate on its own. "Now…oh, and it has an added feature to get you nice and wet." The ribbed texture was grating against my nodes as the toy pulsates inside me.

I press my face further into the cushion, hiding my flushed cheeks. My panel clicked open on its down to allow my spike to pressurize to give some release. It didn't do much even as Megatron's servo runs across the aching metal lightly. I gasp in pleasure, embarrassed when I jerk against his fingers. I couldn't help it if I wanted more friction to ease the pressure in my valve.

I nearly scream as the toy sudden expands a small amount then retracts. My vision flashed an unhealthy white as pleasure exploded through my systems. "You're quite sensitive, Medic," he chuckles, the rumble pulsing through my back to set my body on fire. "How long has it been since you had a nice hard frag?"

My processor won't assemble coherent sentences as the cap stretches a little more until I am bucking into Megatron's servo desperately. He slowly lowers down my back until I feel a slick glossa running across my sensitive servos. It was all I needed to cry out and overload in his servo. The toy still vibrates, making my release all that more powerful until it stops, leaving me a writhing mess on the berth.

The overlord's servo moves away just before I fall to my side, venting air, desperate, to cool my internal systems. I feel a cloth wipe my body down. His lips run across my audio receptors lightly. "It's going to be fun fragging you, Medic," he whispers deeply, lapping at my receptor with his glossa slowly. "Such a sensitive mech with such a beautiful…" he runs his servo down my aft lazily. "Body."

I stare up at him, trying to twist my faceplate into a look of anger. It was sad, but I was too tired and relaxed to do anything as he lay down on his side in front of me. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Small creatures to harassing?" I mutter, trying to sound agitated.

He chuckles, the sound a rumbling resonation in his chest. "Soundwave is more than capable of dealing with things for a few minutes," he responds just as my body tries to shut down for recharge. I sigh, trying to find a comfortable position with my servos bound behing my back. Surprisingly enough, Megatron reaches out to unhook the cuffs. He tosses them to the side before moving away from the berth toward the door. "You are a logical mech, Medic, so don't destroy anything here or try to escape."

Then, he's gone out the door leaving me by myself. I heard the door lock as I turned over to get some recharge; I had another hour before the cap would stretch again. I had another four before Megatron would take the cap out and finish what he started. I might as well get some well deserved recharge.

The next four hours were the Pit. I recharged for most of the time until the cap started acting up every hour. My recharge was peaceful other than that but I had to keep my servos away from my spike when the cap inside of me started to vibrate. It never failed to shock me right out of my recharge. Megatron was gone for the whole four hours so I was left to my own misery.

It wasn't until the very last hour that I was jolted awake by the feel of a rather large mech slipping up to lie up against my back on the berth. My optics flutter online as his derma runs across my neck cables, sending a soft flutter of heat through my systems. "Five more minutes," I grumble, trying to swat at him.

His large servo easily catches mine, moving away from my neck to run his gloss across my sensitive fingers slowly. I gasp as my internal heat jumps up rapidly, pleasure rushing across my systems. "Medics and their servos," he taunts deeply. My arm tugs at my servo to pull away from him but he holds firm.

I fidget at the attention, knowing the only place I could go would be against the wall. He releases my servo but it is a short reprieve before he is running that servo down my side. The lower his servo crept, the more tense I became until he was ghosting his fingers across my interface panel. A moan slips from my derma as he nips at my neck and shoulder with his denta slowly. I feel his fingers press more firmly on my panel but I refuse to let it open.

Too bad he didn't need to do anything as the cap kicked on. My hips buck forward as my panel automatically clicks open, my spike pressurizing right into his servo. "That's better," he leers, running his servo across my spike slowly as the cap starts to expand again. I groan, bucking into his servo desperate for friction even if my processor knew it was wrong to want his touch.

His strong grasp slips until he can flip me over to lie on my back, his bulky body pressed in between my legs, the cap finally stilling. A servo reaches down to remove the blasted object, tossing it to the side carelessly. I gasp as his fingers probe at my stretched valve, igniting a fire of pleasure as he runs across some sensitized nodes carefully. My fans were whirling loudly as he jerks my hips down so that he can press the tip of his spike against my sensitive valve.

The moan that slips from my derma is loud and desperate as he presses forward. The large spike stretches me even further but my valve was so slick with lubricants and my processor cloudy with pleasure that I jerk my hips to encourage him further. He smirks down at me, red optics devouring the need conveyed on my faceplate even as he slams into me. My back archs off of the berth in pure shock, vocalizer glitching for a few seconds before my scream escapes me.

My vision goes white as he thrusts into me at a reckless tempo. I wasn't sure if it was an overload or if my body was getting ready to shut down but all I knew was that the pleasure was so powerful I couldn't keep quiet. He looms over me, optics focused on my faceplate to watch my every noise and emotion. It was intimidating how intensely he was watching me but it was also incredibly arousing when he held my optics with his. I could see every ounce of pleasure shining through his optics and it was…very attractive.

He clenches his servo on my hip just as I feel the energy starting to build and I throw my head back in pleasure as my overload crashes over me. "Megatron!" I scream before I can stop myself. My overload rushes through my valve, causing spasms of pleasure, which, after a few shallow thrusts, drives the overload off the edge.

"Ratchet," he breathes, much to my surprise. He hadn't used my name since I was taken captive and hearing his deep, rumbling voice utter that one word made my overload that much stronger.

He collapses to the side, pulling out of my valve, as he does so. I feel my panel click shut instinctively before my systems start to shut down for more recharge. The last thing I feel as I start to drift off is a large arm wrap around my form to pull me against a warm, imposing body. It was surprisingly comfortable so I press into the warmth before I offline.

* * *

><p><strong>To<strong>** be**** continued...**

* * *

><p>AN: So the whole bit about Fatale is actually part of my other fanfiction but you don't have to read it to understand this story! I just did _Freedom_ for a contest and wanted to add a bit of it here for plot reasons.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! I wanted this to be a little darker but I had another idea half-way through!

Hope you enjoyed!


	16. Let Yourself Fall: Part Two

**Let Yourself Fall**

Universe: Prime

Pairings: MegatronxRatchet

Rating: R/MA+

Description: Being captured by the Decepticons is never a good thing but it's even worse when their leader becomes interested in you. Now, Ratchet finds himself in a stick situation where being captured means a little more.

* * *

><p>He was gone by the time I woke up the next morning. I didn't even remember him getting out of the berth but as I stretched out, I figured I might as well explore the room. I needed to visit the wash racks; I was filthy. I stood up, wincing at the slight twinge that echoed from my valve, and noticed that there was only one door to this room. Great, it was probably locked, too.<p>

I walked over to it anyways, expecting it to stay closed, only to jump as it swished open. Megatron was leaving the whole apartment for me to roam around in? I would call him ignorant but he knew better that I wouldn't try to escape. Where would I go? We were well above the ground in this ship so there was nowhere for me to go but down. I wasn't feeling suicidal today.

No, as I walked out of the room, I figured that Soundwave was watching over me and there were a couple of guards posted outside the door, just in case. The living area was…cozy, to say the least. There were plenty of datapads to keep me busy for a very long time, so I wasn't going to be bored. I figured the screen to the right received human channels so I watch that if all else failed to entertain me.

"First, thing's first," I mutter, going for the door that lead to the wash racks.

* * *

><p>I watched as Ratchet chose my favorite book, sat down and started reading. He finished in the wash racks and seemed rather docile, for now. I had to admit that I was hesitant to let him walk around my quarters freely but he seemed more interested in the scenery than anything else. He had spent well over an hour looking at my art and memorabilia from Cybertron. Then, after examining everything, he went for the shelf.<p>

Soundwave came up behind me, expressing his concern in the only way he knew how. "Yes, I know, Soundwave," I state, understanding the worry about letting him have even this small amount of freedom. "But, the Medic is far smarter than to think he can escape."

I had been checking all of the old databases to get his history and it seemed like the normal story. He was born, surprisingly, into a middle-class family back on Cybertron and had gone to university on scholarship. It was almost impossible to get through medical school on scholarship; not because of the credits, no, it was because of the preconceived notions. You had to come from wealthy, well-bred Creators to have an easy way at university.

He graduated with honors, could have done better had his parents had the credits to influence him into the position of Valedictorian. Corruption was rampant in the schools and it put a lot of mechs and femmes with a lot of potential into the Pits, or worse. A lot of those rejects of Medical school, Knockout, for example, ended up in the Pits where we put them to good use. They didn't need a degree to practice in the Pits, which, while dangerous, helped the Pits immensely.

Ratchet spent almost a century practicing in a private practice until Orion Pax was placed in his position as Prime. That was when he went into politics, claiming, to go for the exact same thing that Fatale would later involve herself in. I am still hesitant to believe that Ratchet would believe in equality but after Fatale…

I shook my helm to clear out her smiling faceplate. Even after so many centuries, it was still so hard to think of her. I only kept a few memories of her locked in my processor; the others I had put onto external hard drives because they surfaced so much. When you're young, death should be the last thing on your processor but I was bathed in it from the day I was created. The Pits censored me to death, or, so I thought. Her death had hit me so hard that I responded with my declaration of war on the upper-class, who would later be known as the Autobots.

The Decepticon title was something Soundwave and I chose before Fatale but when she heard the title she smiled and said, "I love it! The Pit warriors and manual laborers are very deceptive! No upper-class mech or femme would expect you to be so smart and cunning!" Her logic, quick wit, and impeccable speaking skills were not something she gained from her Creators; they were uniquely her.

Turning away from the screen, I decided it was time for me to get back to work. I had spent more than enough time dwelling on the past. The future, like a crystal garden, needed careful tending and plenty of spilt energon for it to flourish to my whim.

* * *

><p>His collection was extensive and I had a hard time picking what I wanted to read first. My servo went for the servo-written book at the very top; something caught my optic as I looked up at it and I pulled it down without hesitation. It's title was rubbed away from consistent use. The metal pages were rusting with age but the message was perfectly written so that it would last several lifetimes. It was a well read book.<p>

_"The History of the Primes"_ was the title as stated in elegant writing on the title page. I'm not sure how long I sat there and read but it wasn't until I was halfway done with the book that I shifted and something fell from the back of the book. Curious, I picked up the small disk and realized it was an external hard drive. I hadn't seen one in centuries.

Turning it over in my servos, I wondered what was on it. They were most popularly used for storing memories that were precious but took up too much processor space. Did it belong to Megatron or the person who owned this book before? Should I look? It didn't belong to me.

Curiosity won in the end and I found myself pressing the hard drive into my wrist jack, uploading the data. It was a lot of information and I was shocked as it took so much time. What could he possibly want to lock away in a hard drive and hide in this old book? I second guessed looking at the data as it finished uploading but my curiosity, though morbid, was too great.

It started out in a small room from Megatron's perspective, staring at a wall. His thoughts were recorded and it seemed he was sparkling-sitting. The thought of Megatron sparkling-sitting was rather humorous but when his optics finally turned as the sparkling caught his attention, it surprised me to see a young Fatale. I don't know how I recognized her without him saying her name but there was something about her optics that just told me.

Watching through the memories, it surprised me to find that Megatron had had such a long history with Fatale. They went everywhere and did everything together. She loved him and he…loved her. I skipped the less than appropriate parts, not wanting to seem the pervert, until I came to the final memory. I had my own perspective of this memory but the overlay of emotions that Megatron's side had was…overwhelming and made my spark ache.

I pulled the hard drive out of my wrist and placed it back into the book. It was hard to see Megatronus's soft side toward this femme but it made sense now why he would be so passionate. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear the door open until Megatron was sitting down right next to me on the couch.

"Like it?" he asks, completely oblivious to my thoughts. His servo reached out to touch the book but he didn't take it away from me. It was a gentle touch that said so much more than any words could. This book, as the memories had told me, had belonged to her. She had left everything to him and his cause. Every last credit of her fortune had gone to him, including the library full of books. She had left her house to her family but she knew that he would have no use for it so she left him what was important.

"It's great," I whisper, keeping my optics averted from him. His passionate, hateful nature made so much more sense now and it softened my spark, just a bit. "It's old."

He chuckles lightly, wrapping an arm around the back of the couch, around me. "Yeah," he mutters, leaning his helm back to relax. It was odd to see him with his guard down like this. I kind of liked seeing him without his walls. He wasn't an unattractive mech, either, so I guess I had it good with him as my capture. Yes, he had forced me into an agreement that was less than acceptable but it wasn't like I got nothing out of the deal. He hadn't hurt me, either.

Maybe I had what humans called Stockholm Syndrome. I knew what he had gone through and my empathy made me feel sympathy for him. Did he deserve sympathy for all he had done? He had a good reason for starting the war, which Optimus, Fatale and I had tried to prevent but failed. She had been the first martyr in this entire war; she had been the catalyst that had shoved Megatron over the edge. Now her memory was kept in a little hard drive in an old book collecting dust on a shelf.

It didn't seem fair.

I moved before my processor could really stop me. My derma found his, shocking him stationary, as I kissed him. It was gentle and it made him freeze. He didn't seem to know how to respond to my advance until his arms hesitantly wrapped around my body. It wasn't like last night though; it was a gentle, tender embrace. It helped to solidify in my processor that there was more to Megatron than just his brutal, no-nonsense attitude. He had a spark.

* * *

><p>His kiss was…familiar. Not in the way that I had kissed him last night and it frightened me that I responded quicker to this treatment as opposed to the former. He was gentle, tender and compassionate, feelings that I hadn't received in a very long time. Had he just jumped me without any tact, I would have assumed that he just wanted a good frag, which was what Starscream had always wanted but this…I didn't know what to think.<p>

My servos touched his back as I wrapped my arms around his form. Suddenly, the crabby Medic turned into something more. His kiss was slow and his glossa lightly licked at my mouth, pleading to be let in. My derma parted and the taste was completely different. Domination was my usual aphrodisiac but I currently found my panel heating in record time.

My fingers dip into seams, plucking wires and sensors that made the Medic's back arch in pleasure. I let my derma drift down his neck as he pulled away to cycle air through his overheating systems. My glossa laps at his neck and shoulder just as I hear his panel click open; honestly, I hadn't expected it to open so quickly. He was just as turned on by this encounter as I was and it was oddly justifying to run my servos down to feel that his valve was already drenched.

His moan was music to my audio receptors as two of my fingers slipped into his valve, stretching him pleasantly. I can't help but admire the way his back arches, actually responding freely to my touches instead of resisting. It was…incredibly arousing to watch him press into my fingers in a wanton need that wasn't forced or faked. He was in so much more pleasure now than he had been last night; his voice was making noises that I never thought would effect me, yet here I was, condensation already running down my form in rivulets.

I press another finger into his valve, stroking his spike with my free servo. His servos grip at my shoulders desperately as I stretch him gently. I captured the Medic's derma for a searing kiss that had my processors whirling with pleasure at how willing he is to return the gesture. It was a little more…intimate than last night and I found my panel clicking open by itself.

"Please, Megatron," I hear Ratchet groan, pressing his forehead against mine. I couldn't help but stare up at him with glazed optics before I remove my fingers to press my spike against his valve. All I have to do is situate my spike before he jerks his hips down.

I throw my helm back with a desperate moan as his velvety heat wraps around my throbbing spike. He seats himself in my lap with one calculated movement and doesn't stop. Instead, he is rolling his hips against mine, creating a friction so hot I thought I might catch fire. I never thought I'd look at the bulky, crabby Medic and find him sexy but the way his faceplate contorted in pleasure was spiking my core temperature.

Shifting us slightly, I press my servos against his hips to halt his movements, afraid I would go before he did. He leans back to brace himself on my knees, giving me the perfect view of his valve, filled to bursting with my spike. His optics were hazy with lust as I guide his hips, drawing my spike out of his valve slowly so I could see the entire length. I look up at him with my optics and a heady expression before jerking his hips down.

His helm tilts backwards with a pleasured cry before I am repeating the motion. He makes the most beautiful noises when he is enjoying himself and I can't help but thrust my hips up to meet his. I see his mouth open to scream but nothing comes out so I do it again, driving him insane as his arms start to strain to hold himself up.

"Come here," I whisper, pulling him until I can bury my faceplate in his neck cables. My hips jerk up into him, my arms wrapped around his form to keep him pressed against me.

"Megatron-I'm gonna…" he begs, meeting me thrust for thrust until our movements turn into short shallow thrusts. "Ah, Primus!"

I gasp as his valve clenches around mine in his overload. "Ratchet!" I moan desperately. He keeps pressing down against my spike until I am pushed over that edge with him, spilling my transfluid into his valve.

He leans against me as we sit there, recovering. "Frag," he mutters against my shoulder, slouched against me even as I pull my softening spike out of him. "That was-oh!" I press three fingers into him again, feeling the mixture of lubricant and transfluid as it slicks my way. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not done with you yet," I smirk, shoving him down onto the table in front of the couch. He whimpers as I press my servo against his stomach to pin him down and I slam my fingers into his sensitive valve.

His faceplate melts into that of pleasure. I don't know what came over me as I crouched down in front of him and threw his legs over my shoulders. He gasps when my glossa licks at the rim of his stretched valve, probing playfully. "Mega-ah!-tron!" he cries out desperately as my fingers press against a sensitive bundle of nodes easily.

I thrust my fingers into him harder, watching as his previously spent spike starts to harden again. His thighs tighten around my helm just as I lean up to run my glossa up the underside of his spike lightly. The whimper he let out struck something inside of my processor because I did something I hadn't done since my affair with Fatale; I leaned up and took his spike into my mouth, sucking lightly.

His response was almost violent as he arches off of the table and overloads again. I had expected as much but the taste of his transfluid still surprised me; it wasn't terrible. My optics watched as he slouched against the table, going limp. Standing up, I found that he had gone straight into recharge.

The smile that slipped across my faceplate was…frightening. I wasn't having soft feelings for this Medic, this _Autobot_. He was just my toy, right? The fact that I was second guessing myself made me falter as I scooped the Medic up into my arms to take into my berthroom. My processor was warning me that I needed recharge, badly, so I figured I could think about it in the morning.

Running my fingers across the Medic's faceplate, I smiled as he turned toward my warmth. Who would have thought the crabby old model would be so touchy-feely? I never expected him to enjoy cuddling but then again…if anyone ever found out I enjoyed cuddling…I would be laughed at. The only people who could know were Ratchet and Soundwave, who recorded everything. I shrugged it off though.

I'd think about everything in the morning.

* * *

><p>When my systems came back online from recharge, Megatron was still in the berth with me. His arm was wrapped around my waist, keeping my back against his front comfortably. It seemed more intimate than I ever thought Megatron could be. Then again…<p>

My faceplate flushed as the memory of the night before resurfaced. I thought he'd throw me off in disgust when I kissed him like I did but instead he responded in kind. His gentle, passionate ministrations last night had driven me insane. I didn't mind the rough interface but somehow…having the giant overlord gently bringing me to overload was so much more satisfying.

I stroke his servo lightly, enjoying the warmth and intimacy of his embrace. I was a nice surprise that he could be so compassionate but, truthfully, I had seen him be just that in his interactions with Fatale in his memories. He had a soft spot a mile wide, he just didn't let other people know about them. He had to constantly be the toughest mech around for appearances.

He vents some air hotly against my neck, tightening his hold on me ever so slightly. His faceplate buries against my neck and shoulder. It was cute, to be honest, and I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my faceplate as the mech's servo presses flat against my abdomen to hold me close. He was only slightly rebooted from recharge so I let him come back online slowly.

"Mm," he hums, stretching out a bit behind me. "Good morning."

The way he said it made me feel as if I were actually his lover instead of his captive. It was a sweet feeling that seeped into my spark and spread through my body at a surprising rate. "Morning," I respond, stilling my fingers as they went to stroke his servo lightly.

After a few moments of silence, he pulls away to stand out of the berth.

* * *

><p>The next couple of weeks were…pleasant.<p>

I hated to admit that I was getting used to having Ratchet waiting for me in my berthroom when I returned from a long day's work. I was curious as to why Optimus hadn't made a play to get the Medic back but I felt that he hadn't given up. When both factions met in battle, the Autobots were a little more vicious than normal. They must be planning something big but I had no clue what, yet.

Ratchet was wickedly intelligent and read through my library almost as quickly as I had. He devoured literature and then when I got back to the room, we would discuss an array of topics. They were conversations I had missed having in such a casual, intimate atmosphere but where I felt it should remind me of Fatale…it didn't. Ratchet had a bright processor but he didn't have that morbid sense of humor as the seeker did. He had a stubborn streak as wide as Fatales but, physically, he was nothing like her at all and he had different opinions and perspectives than she did.

He was passionate and a little grouchy at times but, all-in-all, he was a pleasure to be around. I being around someone that could match me intellectually and he gave me a heavy run for my credits in subjects dealing with medicine, psychology and science. I was more knowledgeable than him in things such as history, economy and strategy. We were both well versed in Politics though they were of completely different kinds. I was more comfortable with the underground Politics that went on behind the upper-class Politician's backs; he understood the Politics that he had been a part of.

It wasn't uncommon for us to debate early into the morning.

In between debates, we were interfacing. It was strange how it just came naturally for the two of us to fall into a passionate night of interface. Sometimes, I'm not even sure how it started because it was so smooth. It wasn't forced and it wasn't because I needed a good frag. No, it was just because I _wanted_ to interface with him. He wasn't the most attractive mech that I had ever taken to my berth but there was something about the way he looked while he talked passionately about something that made me want him.

It frightened me a little because there was only one other people that had ever made me feel this way. I couldn't love Ratchet. There was no way. I had promised myself I wouldn't love after Fatale; I swore to myself that I would never become vulnerable to another spark in my entire function. But, I couldn't deny that I missed him through the day and was happy to see his smiling faceplate when I walked into our room. See, I was even calling it _our_ room now!

I couldn't think of that room without him there.

"Lord Megatron!" I heard a random Eradicon state from behind me.

"What is it?" I snap, coming back to realize harshly.

"It's Knockout, sir, he's been taken prisoner by the Autobots!"

My processor whirled. "So that is their plan, is it?" I mutter to myself before turning fully to the Eradicon. "Tell them that they can keep him. I will not deal with in exchanges with them."

"But, sir, Dreadwing was very heavily injured in the battle."

I pause, shocked. The Autobots would do anything to get their Medic back, including taking out one of my Generals. Optimus, somehow always a step ahead of me, knew that I wouldn't want to give up my captive so he was stonewalling me. The sad part was, I knew this move was genius on his part. Ratchet would refuse to tend to a Decepticon general so I had no other option but to make the trade.

My spark clenched in an emotion I hadn't felt in a long time. I was suddenly helpless to keep Ratchet with me and it hurt. "Soundwave, set the trade up," I concede stoically.

* * *

><p>I instantly knew something was wrong when Megatron walked into the room. There was no explaining how I could read his emotions so well when it took others centuries to gauge one expression but I did. My body came off of the couch even as he was grabbing my shoulders, jerking me into a passionate, rough kiss. I threw my servos against his chest but not in defense, I needed something to keep myself from falling over.<p>

His glossa was dominating but there was a desperation in his kiss that took the air right from my body. It was…intoxicating as his servos inched up to frame my faceplate tenderly. "Megatron," I breathe when he pulls away to press our foreheads together. "What's wrong?"

Truthfully, he was scaring me. These past few weeks had been…amazing. He was an intellectual that was able to keep up with my abstract thought processes. We had conversations long into the nights that never became boring. His perspective was new to me and I enjoyed his company more than a lot of the Autobots back on Cybertron. It was scary to think of how close we had grown since I was captured.

"You are going to be given back to the Autobots," he finally explains.

My spark throbs with pain at the look on his faceplate. This hurt him just as much as it hurt me. It was strange how I had never felt this way before but…it was so natural. He was my enemy, my capture, but he was also the mech I enjoyed seeing at the end of the day. Sure, I missed being busy and working but the thought of never seeing Megatron except for on the opposite side of the war hurt. It stabbed at my spark and I couldn't help but clench my servos against his chest.

"Did…I do something wrong?" I whisper, softly, uncharacteristically so.

His optics widen in shock. "No, Unicron's blood, no!" he chuckles dryly. "They have Knockout and Dreadwing is injured. They want a trade and I will not make you work on Dreadwing. It goes against who you are morally."

I want to argue with him. I want to tell him that I'll heal Dreadwing but my immovable loyalty to Optimus keeps me from saying so. He was right. I couldn't do that to Optimus. They needed me and even though I had gotten this small taste of…whatever this was, I was needed elsewhere. I may be needed there but…I wanted to be here…with Megatron.

"When?" I finally ask.

"An hour and a half," his vocalizer was trying to hide his pain but failed.

"That's plenty of time," I whisper, leaning up to kiss him passionately. It was a desperate ministration but it made me feel so much better when his servos grabbed at my hips to pull me close.

We spent that hour in each other's arms, as cheesy as it sounds, enjoying each other's bodies one last time. Primus only knew how long it would be before the war would end and there seemed to be no outcome. I felt like I had known him for centuries instead of just a few intimate weeks as a captive.

Truthfully, I was happy to see my friends and to be outside of the ship but as we arrived at the coordinates I felt my spark shudder. I didn't want to leave Megatron like this. It just seemed so…wrong. His body was tense, I could feel that even from my position beside him. He hadn't put me in shackles and I was thankful for the small grace. He knew I wouldn't try anything strange; in fact, I was hesitant to even go.

"We're glad to have you back, Ratchet," Optimus states as I walk to my faction. Knockout, who is in stasis cuffs, is shoved roughly to the Eradicons.

"Yes, me too," I whisper, glancing over my shoulder even as we are walking towards the ground bridge. Megatron hadn't moved an inch and his red optics were pinned to me. I felt the pain in my spark grow only worse at the look in his optics; Primus, it hurt to cause him pain. My pedes paused for only a second before I had to turn away and walk through the ground bridge reluctantly.

Work consumed my days after my return. It was strange that I sometimes expected Megatron to sneak up behind me out of nowhere and wrap his arms around my waist at random moments. I shouldn't miss the Decepticon leader this much but I found myself going through my nights without a wink of recharge, thinking about him. I ached for him at nights too and nothing helped.

It wasn't long before Optimus became worried. He always was the observant one. "Old friend," he greets as he comes into the main area early in the morning. "Have you recharged at all tonight?"

He wasn't dumb, he could see the strain that my body was under. "No," I say shortly. My servos were shaking from the lack of recharge but I couldn't seem to shut my systems down for longer than a few minutes. Memories of Megatron kept surfacing in my processor, haunting me.

"What is the matter? Was it something Megatron did to you?" he asks, meaning well but making me tense sharply. "Did he hurt you?"

"Optimus, leave the poor mech alone," I hear Arcee interrupt as she came into the room. Her servos were small but they easily pushed the huge mech out of the room without further explination. "Let me talk to Ratchet, you go out on patrol. You're already late for it anyways."

Arcee waited until the leader was gone from the room before turning to me. "Megatron didn't hurt me," I tell the femme, hoping it will get her off of my back. I didn't want to talk about this, least of all with the femme.

"Ratch," she soothes, hoisting herself up on the platform next to me so that we would be closer to optic level. "You're in love."

My whole body tenses in revulsion. No. I didn't love Megatron. Sure, I enjoyed his presence and his conversations. He touched me in a way that drove me wild, something no one else had ever done. I missed him dearly but that didn't mean I was in love with him. Just because my spark ached to be so far away from him didn't mean…

My whole form slouched in defeat. I loved Megatron. In the short amount of time that we had been around each other…I had fallen, hard, for the warlord. His perspective, his voice, his passion, his optics, his…everything made me happy. "Primus forbid," I mutter, covering my faceplate with my servos.

Her servo pats my back lightly. "You can't help who you fall in love with, Ratchet," she offers, surprisingly understanding. I figured she would be the first to condemn me but she was actually the one to figure it out. "I looked a lot like that with Cliffjumper."

My spark stopped hurting after a while and I had to admit that I felt better after admitting it. "I have no idea what to do, Arcee," I mumble into my servos. I felt helpless in this situation.

She chuckles lightly. "You're the smart one, think of something," she comments before jumping down from her seat. "You know, someone told me once that love was so strong it could stop a war dead, just saying."

Then she was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><strong>A/N: Okay so this took a turn for the romantic but I like showing Megatron as more of a normal mech. Of course, this has nothing to do with any of the episodes because Megatron has been corrupted with dark energon but I love the thought of a passionate, sometimes gentle Megatron.

Anyways, thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it!


	17. Let Yourself Fall: Part Three

**Let Yourself Fall**

Universe: Prime

Pairings: MegatronxRatchet

Rating: R/MA+

Description: Being captured by the Decepticons is never a good thing but it's even worse when their leader becomes interested in you. Now, Ratchet finds himself in a stick situation where being captured means a little more.

* * *

><p>Hopeless, this had to be hopeless.<p>

I paced back and forth in the valley, feeling vulnerable in the open air. He would be here, I knew it. I had sent the message yesterday for him to meet me here and it was coming on five minutes after the time. He should be here by now. Megatron was nothing if not punctual. Was he ignoring me? Did I misjudge his feelings for me?

The sound of a powerful engine caught my attention. Looking up, I felt all of the tension flush from my body as I looked up at the Cybertronian jet. He transformed to land a few feet in front of me, his red optics pinning me to the spot.

I could never fully describe the relief that floods through my systems at seeing him. It was a beautiful relief to see him alive and well. I was supposed to hope for his death but I couldn't anymore. Ever since coming back from the Nemesis, so many things were different. My spark pulsed happily as he took long strides towards me easily.

His confidence was so familiar to me. It felt like it had been mere hours instead of weeks since we had last seen each other. "I can't do this, Megatron," I finally say just as he stops a small distance away.

I smile as his optic ridges rise in confusion at my tone. "Me neither," he responds with a slow smile. "Come with me."

Pain lances through my spark. "You know I can't," I whisper with a sigh. "I want to be with you, Megatron, but I can't leave Optimus. I have a duty to them."

I see the thoughts running through his processor rapidly as he tried to decide what to say. "What do you propose?" he asks, crossing his massive arms across his chest.

Closing the distance between us, I reach out to touch his arm gently. "Hasn't this war gone on long enough?" I question desperately. I wanted this war to end so badly, it hurt. He jerked away from me, sudden understanding dawning in his optics along with a fierce determination. "Megatron, this has gone on far too long."

"I will not submit, Ratchet," he declares powerfully, pulling away from my touch. "I will not bow down to the old way."

"Stop," I demand, catching his shoulder to keep him from leaving. "You know I don't mean it like that, Megatron. Those Primes are long dead; the mechs and femmes who enjoyed the old way are gone. All that are left only want equality." He keeps himself turned away from me but doesn't move. "We can figure this out, peacefully, can't we?"

His processor was whirling, I could see it in what little bit of his faceplate wasn't turned away. He was thinking about it, honestly thinking about it. I knew what he was thinking. He was worried that the old ways would creep back in without us realizing it. "Prime has approved this?" he asks, quirking an optic ridge.

I flush lightly. "I haven't spoken with him about it, yet. I wanted to make sure you would agree with this," I explain, embarrassed. He narrows his optics before his faceplate eases. "I didn't want to go behind your back and assume."

His huge arms wrap around my waist, pulling me until our bodies were connected. "I will speak with your Prime," he sighs, pressing his forehead to mine. "I don't know why, though." The humor in his voice was comforting and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around his neck to pull him down to my level.

"You missed me, admit it," I murmur playfully, stroking my servos up the back of his helm slowly.

He flattens his large palms against my back, kneading the metal teasingly. "Me? Miss your petulant attitude?" he mocks, running his derma down my cheek to my neck cables. I respire harshly as his glossa dips into my sensitive cables. "No, but I did miss this."

"Pervert," I whisper breathlessly as his fingers dip into my hip joint to tease the wires there. "Here I missed our-ah!-intellectual conversations." His derma twist into a smirk against my neck before his denta nip at my shoulder playfully.

"You missed me," he mimics shortly.

My fans kick on furiously when I feel his fingers brush lightly across my interface panel igniting fires in the deep pit of my fuel tanks. It was at that inopportune time that my comm.-link went off. _"Ratchet, come in, Ratchet," _it was Optimus.

I heave a frustrated sigh and push the warlord away after a moment's hesitation. _"Yes, Optimus?"_ I reply just as Megatron's derma are trailing down my spark chamber, glossa dipping into seams. My vents hitch in the sudden rush of pleasure as I steady myself on the mech's helm shakily.

"_You okay? You sound…different," _he questions.

My processor was growing fuzzy in response to Megatron's downward trail. _"I-I'm fine, just a little tired," _I grit out, gripping at Megatron's helm to keep myself from moaning. His glossa was running down my panel, trying to trick my body into opening up for him. It was working, sadly. _"What do you need?"_

"_I need your help with something back at the base. Do you want a ground bridge?" _

My panel clicks open on its own and I bite down on my derma to keep the scream in my throat when I feel Megatron's glossa trailing up my spike slowly. _"N-No, I'll be there…soon."_ I quickly cut the comm.-link off so that I could release my held in groan. "You're an aft, you know that?" I whimper, trying to stabilizing myself on his shoulders.

"Complaining?" he asks with a seductive smirk as his fingers probe my valve lightly. I grit my denta as a finger slips into my neglected valve, causing my shaky legs to falter slightly. "That's what I thought." His finger thrusts quickly into my lubricated valve, stretching me until he could insert another.

"M-Megatron," I whimper, arching my back as another finger is pressed in. Some pain lances through my systems but it is slowly smothered as he distracts me with his mouth. "Please."

He pulls his fingers away and straightens to his formidable height. With a devilish smirk, he turns me around and bends me over so that I had to press my servos to a large bolder. My faceplate flushes with embarrassment before I feel his spike pressing against my valve. All hesitation leaves me and I can't help but push back against him. It was a lot slower because of the timespan between our last coupling but the stretch felt amazing.

"Primus," he grits, keeping a tight hold on my hips to steady himself. "So tight."

I can do nothing else but push back, needing more. "More," I breathe heavily. He grunts and thrusts hard to seat himself fully in my valve. My processor flashed white light across my vision as he continues to thrust, nearly pulling all the way out every time. I spread my legs a little further to stabilize and plant my servos on the rock in front of me so that I don't move from the force of his thrusts.

He leaned across my back to draw his denta across my shoulders gently. "Frag, you feel good," he whispers softly, sending shocks of arousal through my systems. His voice, so deep and reverberant, vibrated through my entire form, driving me mad with pleasure.

"Megatron, please!" I find myself begging as my overload starts to build. He buries his faceplate in my neck and thrusts harder, faster, into my valve. The sound of metal on metal was stimulating my climax as my breathing becomes frantic and I clutch at the rock desperately. "Frag, I'm going to-"

With one last robust thrust, I was thrown into my overload. I press back into his shallow thrusts that only made my overload that much more powerful. "Ratchet," he moans into my neck as he too overloads, spilling his transfluid into my valve hotly.

* * *

><p>"Ratchet, you can tell us anything," Optimus encourages gently with that smile on his faceplate. I wasn't worried about what he would say; no, it was the other four that I worried about. Bulkhead, Arcee, Bumblebee and even Wheeljack had to be okay with my plan just as much as Optimus. They were part of our team, after all.<p>

"Yeah, Doc-bot," Wheeljack states with that sarcastic smirk on his face. Somehow, I felt that he knew too much without me telling him anything. "Go on."

I lean back against the wall, trying for casual even if my legs were shaking. "I'd like to set up negotiations for peace with the Decepticons," I say slowly, watching their faceplates. Arcee, who already knew this was coming, smiled slightly; Bulkhead's and Wheeljack's jaws dropped in shock; and Bumblebee's optics widened just so.

Optimus' faceplate stayed stoic for a few moments before he uncrosses his arms from his chest. "What makes you so sure that they would agree?" he asks, obviously curious to my sudden outburst. He knew I wouldn't come forward with anything unless I had a good reason. He was one of my oldest friends; he understood me better than anyone else here.

"Megatron has already agreed," I say, confident in my choice.

"Woah, woah!" Wheeljack nearly shouts, holding out his servos. "How do we know this isn't a trap?"

Optimus tilted his head but smiled. "We'll have the negotiations, we owe Megatron that much for treating Ratchet so well," he finishes the discussion. I was shocked that he was so willing to negotiate after all that Megatron had done but they had been good friends at one point in time. "Set up the details, Ratchet. I'd like to do this soon."

"Alright," I smile, going to my computer.

Wheeljack and Bulkhead storm after Optimus, surely to try and talk some sense into him. Bumblebee and Arcee crowd around the computer, firing questions at me. "Megatron? I honestly thought it was Knockout!" the femme chuckles, patting me on the back. "If this works, Ratch, you'll be a hero!"

Bumblebee whirls quickly at me and I can't help the chuckle. "Yes, he took good care of me," I answer the young mech shortly. He gives a few suggestive beeps that make my faceplate heat. "Language, Bee, and that's personal."

"That's a yes," Arcee teases, dodging my careless swat. "So is he…eh?" She held her servos out about a good distance from each other.

I flush darker. "Arcee!" I shout, heavily embarrassed. Bee mimics her earlier statement with a mechanical laugh. "Will you two leave me alone?"

"Aw, come on, Ratchet," she coos playfully. "We all know that the reason you've been in such a good mood today is because you got a well needed frag."

"Language!" I nearly scream, my faceplate burning with mortification. "Primus, help me! You sparklings are going to be the death of me!" My servo covers my faceplate as the two laugh at me playfully.

"Come on, just answer us one question," she teases, leaning on the computer lightly. "Is he good?"

"Will you leave me alone?" I snap, earning two very eager nods from the youngest of the group. I turn away, hiding my embarrassment. "Yes."

Bee whirrs triumphantly. "Yeah, yeah, you told me so," Arcee chuckles as they leave me to my work, finally.

* * *

><p>I couldn't believe this was happening.<p>

The warehouse was military grade and large enough for the Autobot team and Megatron, plus his generals, to fit in, comfortably. We had to report to Fowler what we were planning and he had suggested that we meet up with some military officials on neutral ground in the security of a human base so that we would be under surveillance. It wasn't like the humans would be able to do anything if a fight broke out but it made them feel included and a little safer.

Megatron sat on the large make-shift couch the humans had put together with some sturdy metal crates. I was surprised to find that they held up very well against tending as we sat down. I was right next to Optimus at the front with the other Autobots behind us. Megatron sat with Dreadwing, his first lieutenant next to him and the others behind. The humans were on an elevated platform so that they could be on our level.

We had been negotiating for almost three hours and it was looking good. Megatron wanted complete equality and Optimus was more than willing to give it to the Decepticons. "The only problem we face…" Optimus trials off slowly. Megatron quirked an optic ridge curiously. "Is the problem of trust. How can we trust you? I'm sure you run into the same problem on your end as well."

Megatron's faceplate twisted into a confident smirk. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Orion," the overlord chuckles. "We need a way to keep tabs on each other without invading privacy."

"Paranoia can have no place in our peace treaty, Megatronus," he responds, holding his servos out emphatically. "I have a solution for this problem. It is merely a suggestion but a good way to keep tabs on both sides."

"I'm listening."

"I offer a sort of peace treaty through a spark-bond," Optimus explains. A wave of shock rushes through both factions, our faceplates clearly showing the humans that there was something important about this.

Fowler leans against the railing of the platform. "What's a spark-bond?" he questions before his superiors can.

"Our spark is our life-force," I give the short explanation, touching my spark chamber unconsciously. "When two Cybertronians merge their sparks, they become two halves of the same whole. They can read emotions and frequencies of the other mech or femme."

"Effectively," Megatron finishes. "They can read each other's processor." His optics were firmly pinned to me and I felt my frame heat in a conditioned response.

"It will link the two factions and help to solidify the bonds between us," Optimus finalizes easily. "We just need two volunteers."

There is silence for a long time. I stare into Megatron's optics, trying to decide what to do. I felt trapped but at the same time…I knew what I had to do. "I wish volunteer myself," I offer up, never taking my optics off of the overlord.

"Me, as well," Megatron smiles, a rare show of tenderness.

"Then it's settled," Optimus grins in a secretive way. "We can sign the treaty as soon as the two of you are bonded. I would suggest that Ratchet stay on the Nemesis on the condition that it stay grounded and easily accessed."

"Agreed," the overlord states, averting his optics to me.

* * *

><p>My fuel tanks were churning as we walked down the hallway to my private chambers. I never thought I'd bond with anyone in my function, especially to end a war. I was nervous about the bonding but I was also nervous about working things out with the Autobots. My spark was telling me it was the right thing to do but my processor advised me that it would end up just like it had the last time. Someone would get power hungry and Decepticons would end up on the bottom, again.<p>

Then, I glanced down at the Medic walking along side me.

Somehow, he gave me hope that everything was going to turn out alright. He made me feel things that I hadn't experienced since Fatale's assassination. Part of me didn't want to feel so much around him and I had to come to terms with the fact that I worried he too would be taken away from me. I don't know if I could bear another blow like that.

We walked into the living area of my quarters before I turned to him. "Ratchet," I start, turning to look at him. My words were lost as I saw the expression in his optics. He knew he didn't have to do this but he wanted to. I could see the firm decision there. "Are you sure?"

He wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me close. "I'm positive, Megatron," he whispers gently. His derma cover mine and I can't help the moan that slips out. "I don't know when it happened…but I've fallen in love with you."

His words knock the air right out of my vents. I felt my spark pulse harshly but it was in happiness and relief. "I love you too, Ratchet. Even if you are a little irate sometimes," I chuckle, kissing him passionately.

Somehow, we stumble back into the berthroom so that I can press the mech against the berth gently. Neither of us can handle much foreplay but his valve was accustomed to my girth by now. It felt good to thrust into him in the privacy of our quarters so that he could be as long as he wanted. His servos were desperate as they grabbed tightly to my shoulders, pulling me closer, deeper until our overloads were close to breaking.

"Please," he whispers, unlatching his spark chamber to allow me my first glimpse at his spark. It was absolutely beautiful. It shined a bright blue that nearly blinded me until I opened my own spark chamber and let him gaze at my own. "Now, please!"

I press our chambers together and my processor is assaulted by a new type of pleasure as our sparks merge slowly. It was tingling warmth that seeped into my every fiber. It was a frequency that somehow harmonized with my own in an interval that resonated perfection. This frequency was uniquely Ratchet and it was beautiful.

His thoughts drifted through my consciousness and the electricity of merging built until we both overloaded. It was twice as strong as we felt each other's pleasure through the bond. I couldn't help but growl as the pleasure crashed in wave after wave until our sparks finally separated. Our chambers closed just as I collapsed to the side, respiring heavily.

_Holy Primus…_ I heard Ratchet say, but he wasn't actually speaking out loud or in a comm.-link.

_My thoughts exactly…_ I think back, making him jump.

"It's going to take me a while to get used to that," he chuckles out loud, turning over to cuddle up against my side. It was a comfortable feeling that I had missed while he was away.

We stay silent for a few moments as I just listen to the Medic's frequency in my spark. I was different…but natural. It was slowly lulling me into recharge and I could feel it doing the same for Ratchet…my spark-mate. "I love you, Ratchet," I whisper, kissing the mech's forehead lightly.

Even though I couldn't see his faceplate, I _felt_ him smile. "I love you too," he responds, stroking my spark chamber with his servo gently.

There was silence again.

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" I ponder teasingly.

He chuckles brightly. "I don't know," he responds before I drift calmly into recharge.

* * *

><p>Cybertron wouldn't be able to sustain life for a long time yet so we had to set up an agreement with the humans. Some were more than happy to accommodate us, while others…let's just say there were some groups that didn't enjoy us being here. We got numerous threats emailed to us and they were anything but pleasant.<p>

Others were happy that we were here and several international governments were quick to invite us to all their important events. The United Nations wanted our technology and our help to create a better world. We agreed to some of it but we were hesitant to allow the humans access to our advanced technology, especially our weapons. They were a volatile race that had yet to achieve peace, but, then again, who were we to judge them? We had been fighting a war that lasted centuries and their lasted up to a hundred years.

The two factions coincided very well after the first awkward few months. Knockout, after some counseling sessions with me, started learning human medicine and creating technology for the field. Soundwave was used in communications as a specialist hacker. Dreadwing was the hardest to acclimate to the new order but in the end we were able to get him into the military as a flight director. He helped with their training of jet fighters and even helped in making the machines better.

Optimus was in charge of working with the humans to regulate the use of our technology. Bulkhead was used in rebuilding cities that were destroyed in natural disasters; we offered to get him another job but that was the one he wanted. Wheeljack stayed a rogue and would pop up in random places to help Bulkhead every now and then. Bumblebee and Arcee were used as spokes-bots; they had the best time with humans so they easily connected with the children. I was used as a liaison between the Cybertronians and the humans; my job consisted of making sure communications were kept open and that nothing was done behind either races' back.

There was tension, it wouldn't dissipate over night, but it was better than constantly fighting. The bond was rarely used to assure truthful intentions but it was there, should we need it. Besides, I couldn't be happier with the way things had turned out. Megatron's spark wasn't bad, his intentions were good, but he just needed a push in the right direction every now and then. Sometimes, with someone as stubborn as the warlord, you needed to make him think that it was all his idea.

A section of the Nevada desert had been sanctioned off for the use of our race as home. We all built our own houses and Megatron and I were no different. It was nice to have a space of our own where we could thrive and reconvene at the end of the day.

It was on one of those nights that we were sitting in the living room, each doing our own work that he looked at me and said, "Let's have a sparkling."

My shocked expression must have been hilarious because he proceeded to laugh. "Do you need a processor check?" I stammer, still in shock.

"No," he whispers, moving over to kiss me softly. "Just a sparkling."

A smile slowly starts to cross my faceplate as I think about having a little sparkling running around our home. "I'll think about it," I concede before kissing him again.

Yeah, everything was going to be fine…I could feel it.

* * *

><p><strong><span>The End<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: Done!

I really enjoyed this pairing! It was hard to get them into the same room with each other, honestly, because they never interact except for that one part in Faster, Stronger...!

I hope all of you enjoyed this because I did!

Foxyperv noted that I was obviously a hopeless romantic (not offense taken, I promise! ;D) and to that I say this:

_"Love works in miracles every day:  
>such as weakening the strong,<br>and stretching the weak;  
>making fools of the wise,<br>and wise men of fools;  
>favouring the passions,<br>destroying reason,  
>and in a word...turning everything topsy-turvy."<em>  
>~Marguerite De Valois<p>

Thanks to everyone who commented!

* * *

><p><strong>Next Pairing:<strong>

SkyquakexRatchetxDreadwing

(I finally got a plot in mind! ;D)


	18. Side Job: Part One

**Side Job**

_Universe:_ (slight)AU Prime

_Story Rating:_ MA+/R

_Part Rating:_ PG-13

_Warnings:_ Slight sexual content; Sexy Ratchet.

_Pairings:_ DreadwingxRatchetxSkyquake

_Description:_ Ratchet, in search of a job to pay for medical school expenses, ends up at a Nightclub called Friction. He finds himself enthralled by the underground world of dancing and performing along with two of the bouncers.

* * *

><p>Going to medical school was all well and good, especially on scholarship, but the scholarship didn't include expenses outside of tuition. Sure, I got my books paid for and there was a student energon plan but the supplies I needed for my classes outside of datapads were mine to buy and I needed a way to pay for them. None of the jobs on campus would hire me for some reason, probably because of my upbringing, and there were very few jobs around this area would hire me too.<p>

I went to the slums, much like where I had grown up, and found a job, easy. They knew a slum mech when they saw one, even one that was going to medical school, and welcomed me in with open arms. Jobs around this area were easy to come by if you knew the right mech. My optics were drawn, first, to the retail jobs but they didn't need help so I moved on.

"Why don' ya try down tha road at Friction?" the owner of one of the stores suggests with a smile. "They were lookin' ta hire."

"Thank you," I respond with my own smile before leaving.

Friction, as the name suggests, was a nightclub with live dancers and special erotic shows. My fuel tanks churned as I looked at the gaudy neon sign but what other choice was there? I looked at the door where a large flier stood, working as a bouncer, and I gathered my courage to walk up to him. "Can I help you?" he asks, looking down at me with his bright red optics.

I try to seem confident even though I was scared out of my spark chamber. "I heard you were hiring," I say, proud when my vocalizer didn't crack. I had never thought about getting a job at one of these establishments but…I didn't have another choice, did I?

Those red optics glance up and down my frame, scrutinizing me. "You're not from around here," it wasn't a question but I nod my helm anyways. "Give me a minute."

I wait patiently for a few minutes before the door behind the bouncer opens and out walks a large mech. He was obviously the owner of the business with his bright blue optics and very nice paint job. Just as his bouncer, he ran his optics down my form to judge my appearance.

I wouldn't say I was an ugly mech. I was the normal red and white paintjob that most medics took when they were accepted into medical school. My shoulders were broad that went down to a narrow waist and rounded hips. The bouncer obviously had some bulky armor on that I didn't need to wear so my form was slighter and sleeker than his. My faceplate was narrow without an armored helm and I had an average facial structure.

"I'm the owner, Rusty," the charismatic mech states, offering a large servo for me to shake.

"Ratchet," I say with a smile, silently hoping it didn't betray my anxiety.

"Dreadwing tells me you want a job?" he asks, gesturing over at the bouncer who was watching us closely.

I nod my head. "That's right. I heard you were looking to hire."

"We are," Rusty explains, gesturing for me to follow. Dreadwing steps aside so that we can enter the club. As soon as the door swings open, I have to lower my audio receptor's sensitivity. The music was so incredibly loud with a base that reverberated through my spark chamber pleasantly.

I was lead through behind the bar where a lovely femme and gorgeous mech were tending to the clientele's beverage needs. There was a large dance floor where a huge crowd, even so early, was swaying and moving together to the loud music. It was mesmerizing to see the large mob move together in such a synchronized way. There was a stage wrapped around the dance floor with poles at precise parts that reached up to the ceiling.

I hesitated to walk into the back hallway, suddenly suspicious, until I noticed there were others back there. We moved through the hallway, which was framed by several rooms where a large number of mechs and femmes were primping for their time on stage. There was a lot of talking, laughing and cursing as we went back.

We reached the end of the hallway where it got quieter and turned right down another hallway. To the left, I was shocked to see another bouncer that looked strikingly similar to Dreadwing. His red optics followed me, a dangerous smirk on his faceplate, as I walked after Rusty. I turned away from the mech as a sliver of dread slipped down my spine.

"That was Skyquake," Rusty says once we are far enough into the building to dull the music. "He and Dreadwing are split-spark twins. Dreadwing's the smart one but I'd suggest staying away from Skyquake; he's a little crazy."

I nod my helm just as we come to a door that needs a code to unlock. He stands to the side so that I can make my way into the small office; it was filled with only a desk, two chairs and a shelf full of datapads. He gestured for me to the chair in front of the desk and I sat down slowly, watching him walk around the desk.

"Alright, Ratchet," he starts, easing back in his chair comfortably. "Why do you want a job here?"

A dry smile creeps across my faceplate easily. "I'm a scholarship student at the Medical University," I start, only stating the obvious because of my paintjob. "I need some extra money to cover extra expenses and no one at the college will hire me."

He chuckles softly. "Not surprising, scholarship students aren't very popular out there," he comments lightly, obviously teasing in a good-natured way. "I'll tell you what, Ratchet…I need another performer, badly. You've obviously never done this, no offense, so we'll break you in slowly. Can you dance?"

I tilt my helm slightly. "Yes, of course," I state, making him laugh again.

"No, I don't mean the type of dancing you do at Medical school dances. I'm talking with a pole or another dancer!" he explains, tapping the table with his finger for emphasis. My faceplate heats and he smiles playfully. I jump when the door opens to show a sleek grounder with a bright yellow and orange paintjob. He was all sinewy coils and wires with a beautifully rounded chassis with barely any hard edges. His faceplate looked like it was carved by an artist with a full set of derma that seemed to be perpetually twisted in a sultry smirk. His optics were a customized gold that exuded confidence.

"Yeah boss?" the mech asks with a beautiful tenor vocalizer that was almost androgynous.

"Sunny, can you show Ratchet the ropes? I need him performing in two days, at least," Rusty chuckles as I have to snap my jaw shut. I had never seen anything as beautiful as this mech and it was hard not to gawk.

Sunny's delicately carved optic ridges quirk but he runs his glossa over his derma seductively. "Sure, boss, I'll teach the fresh-metal," he agrees, gesturing with one slim, perfectly shined finger for me to follow. I hesitate but get up and walk out of the room after the mech. "I'm Sunstreaker, by the way. Sunny's a nickname for those who know me so don't even try it."

And there was the attitude. I figured it was too good to be true.

"I'm Ratchet," I offer, keeping a healthy distance away from the pretentious mech. My optics couldn't help themselves as they ran down the mech's perfectly carved chassis. His hips were swaying in a way that automatically drew attention to his rounded aft.

"Yeah, good name for a Medic," he snorts mockingly. I roll my optics at the slight mech until we pass by Skyquake's spot. He was there but his brother was with him at the moment and it was amazing how much they looked alike. The only difference was their color choice. Skyquake was neutral colors, green, brown and silver; Dreadwing had chosen more showy colors, blue, yellow and silver. Their chassis's and builds were exactly the same so I was glad they chose different colors. "Dreadwing, you're looking especially shined today."

Sunstreaker's sultry voice is syrupy as he walks forward to run his finely tended servo down the large mech's arm. "Hey, Sunstreaker," the serious mech greets with barely a look. My optics widen a bit. He was able to ignore the beautiful performer? Impressive. His optics, instead, shifted to look at me. My faceplate heated at the smile that slowly crossed his face; it wasn't a happy-to-see-you smile though, it was some kind of mix between a smirk and a grin. "You get the new guy?"

"Sadly, I have to teach the college mech how to dance," Sunstreaker complains, gesturing dramatically with his servo. "I don't know why he throws them at me! I don't have time to teach them!"

Dreadwing gives a deep, reverberating chuckle. "I'll teach him," the mech offers, shocking both Sunny and myself.

"E-Excuse me?" Sunny stammers.

Dreadwing's bright red optics look me over approvingly before he walks toward me. "I'm on floor duty; I could teach him," he says even though he's looking straight at me. I release the air held in my vents as he looks away to his brother. "You want to help, Quake?"

The other brother's faceplate twists in a more obvious smirk. "As long as he's not afraid of us," he comments, making me flush lightly. They were rather intimidating but not as much as Sunstreaker, surprisingly.

"Sure, sounds good," I speak up, finally finding my vocalizer.

"It's settled," Dreadwing chuckles, placing a large servo on my back to usher me forward. They were both large mechs but not so much that we wouldn't be able to dance comfortably. I was flanked as I was lead back into the pounding music, enjoying the return of the thundering bass that vibrated through my chest.

I was guided forward as the crowd on the dance floor automatically parted for us. The twins were obviously well known in this club as we were allowed right into the middle of the dance floor. I wasn't completely lost when it came to dancing, I had been with friends back in primary school, but as I watched the other dancers, it became very apparent that this was different. There was barely any space between them and they were moving their hips in a way that I had never done.

"It's not that hard," I jump as Skyquake presses his derma against my audio receptor so that I would hear him. His servos grab my hips to pull my back flush to his front and Dreadwing stood in front of me at a short distance. "Just move your hips."

His servos easily guided my hips into a smooth motion to the beat of the music. It was a lot slower than the style but I was thankful that he was taking things slowly for me. Dreadwing stepped forward to place his knee right between my legs, grasping my servos to pull them up. They were placed on his broad shoulders as he slipped closer until I was trapped between the two large mechs.

It had my faceplate heating but it wasn't because of embarrassment, mostly. I felt heat rush from my interface panel as it brushed across Dreadwing's; I could feel Skyquake's heated panel on my aft too, which only made things worse. Skyquake's hips guided mine in a sensual motion that Dreadwing easily copied subtly dragging his thigh across my panel. I could see why Cybertronians could get addicted to this type of dancing just as Dreadwing's servos started to run down my spark chamber slowly.

Skyquake's servos followed his brother's example and started to knead at my hip joints, slipping a finger into the seam to tease a wire. My gasp was lost in the loud music and I wondered how this was any different from interface. It felt just like interface but there was something exhilarating about knowing it wasn't going any further than this.

"You're a natural, kid," one of the brother's rasps into my receptor.

I honestly couldn't tell you which twin it had been because my optics were closed. Condensation was dripping down my form, my body heating from the attention of the brothers as they drew their fingers everywhere. It was…intoxicating to feel myself trapped between two large forms, their heat nearly smothering me.

The beat changed but we effortlessly went with it. My hips started to get used to the strange movement and I was soon moving faster, gyrating my body into the twins. I wasn't sure whose servos were whose but it didn't matter as I started losing coherency. The tempo started to speed and I couldn't help but relate it to an aural representation of an overload, slow and consuming. Like languidly lapping water, I felt the tingles rush across my body as my energon pumped and my metal electrified.

The music slowly started to die away and I snapped back to reality when Dreadwing stepped back, giving me some air. I blinked in confusion, looking to the blue mech so he could point up at the stage. "It's show time," Skyquake whispers in my audio receptor, still standing rather close behind me.

After dancing like that, I didn't mind his proximity.

What proceeded was the main event. First up was a femme flier by the name of Slipstream; she was sleek and had beautifully perked wings. She was a perfect dancer too; she didn't need any other person to help her. Her body was agile as she swung herself around the pole, slipping down enticingly slow. She was intimidating, to say the least.

The next exhibition was a little more risqué. Two mechs, one a slender grounder and the other a bulky flier, danced together, if you could call it that. It looked a lot like interface to me and I think it was mostly the way they looked at each other. You could tell that if they weren't bond-mates, they were at least interfacing on the side. It effected the crowd the way they wanted it to. I watched as credits were swiped into the panels at the edge of the stage.

The music started up again after the two mechs and my yelp was lost as Dreadwing jerked me against him. His servos pressed flush against the small of my back, dragging down until he could cup my aft. My blue optics hesitantly looked up until they caught his and I felt my legs grow weak at the intense expression there.

"Don't look so afraid," Skyquake nearly screamed into my receptor to be louder than the music. "You won't entice anyone that way!"

How could I look enticing when Dreadwing's lust was sending heat straight to my panel? I tried, at least, narrowing my optics a bit and trying to mirror the smaller mech that was just up on the stage. If I just pretended that Dreadwing was my lover, which, with this dancing, it wasn't very hard, I could get him weak in the knees too.

It didn't seem to be working; I needed to try something else.

Taking some ideas from the stage performers, I slowly slid my servos up the mech's broad spark chamber. Was that his spark pounding or the bass? I let my fingers trail across his neck cables as I wrapped my arms around his neck. His faceplate faltered slightly when my hips rolled forward against his, dragging our panels gradually together. A small flex of his servos was his only give away and, encouraged, I leaned closer.

It was exhilarating to see the lust reflected in his eyes directed at me; it was a power trip that I could get used to. Our bodies never stopped moving even as I held his gaze with my own; I could feel that my optics were half-hooded as pleasure pulsed through my body to my panel. Interface was never something I craved but if Dreadwing wanted to right now…I might think about it.

Our derma were a breath's inch away before I pulled away, leaning back into his servos. He had no problem holding me up and I could practically feel the disappointment as he vented his held breath. Powerful and sensual, those were the two things that I felt as I danced with the twins, intertwining between one and the other or both. The shows were good for ideas and the twins were more than willing to let me practice on them but I wanted to dance more than watch.

It was near the end of the night when the stage was spotlighted for the club's star performer. I wasn't surprised when Sunstreaker came out onto stage, sway in his step. He could work a crowd, I'd give him that much, and he looked like the definition of frag-appeal as he danced across the stage. His body could do things that I never thought were physically possible and it was really intimidating to see him rile the crowd up into a near frenzy.

"He's really good," I mutter more to myself than to the twins standing on either side of me.

Skyquake laughs boisterously. "He's had a lot more practice than you, Ratchet," he points out as the mech's song finally ends. I watch as he saunters off of the stage, hips swinging, with a small wave to the crowd before he's gone. "Let's go outside for a sec."

The three of us make our way through the crowd and slip out a side door. Cool night air caresses my heated frame, making me sigh in relief. Checking my internal clock, I wasn't surprised to find that I had been there for almost eight hours. The crazy part? I could probably dance the whole night until my class in six hours.

"You learn quick," Dreadwing compliments, handing over a cube of energon. How in the universe had he manage to get a hold of that? I was happy to take the cube, sighing as the cool beverage slipped down my raw throat and into my fuel tanks.

"Yeah, you could give Sunstreaker a run for his credits with a little more practice," Skyquake pats me on the back.

I snort in derision. "Yeah right," I mutter, finishing up the last of my cube before throwing the container in a nearby trashcan. "I will never have that much frag-appeal." The brothers shared a knowing glance before crossing their arms in a synchronized movement. "Don't do that…it's creepy."

Skyquake tilts his head slightly. "You're really that dumb aren't you?" he asks bluntly, earning an elbow to the side from his twin. "Ow, what?"

Dreadwing rolls his optics. "What my brother means, Ratchet, is that you have more appeal than you realize. You dance really well and with the proper training, you could have mechs and femmes at your pedes begging for more," he explains, touching my arm lightly.

I open my mouth to say something just as the door opens and out walks Rusty. "Ah, there you are! Sunny told me that you two had taken the new guy out for a spin!" he teases with a grin. "How'd he do?"

"He's quick," the brothers say in unison. It was only creepy when they did things like that.

Rusty blinks a few times before chuckling. "Alright, well, why don't you come back tomorrow at seven so that we can get you on the stage?"

"Sounds good to me," I nod, glad to finally have a job.

"Good, why don't the two of you escort him out of the district. I don't want my new performer mugged," the owner laughs before disappearing back into the club, shutting in the thumping music.

The twins sidle up beside me to walk me out and I flush. "You really don't have to; I've lived in these areas my entire function!" I argue even as two servos were planted firmly on my back to push me forward.

"Yes, but I'm betting you didn't have your medic paintjob back then," Dreadwing points out, extremely observant. Having a medic's paintjob meant that you were lost if you were out here and that you probably had credits. I didn't, but they wouldn't know that and they probably wouldn't believe me if I told them that either. I finally give in and let the two intimidating mechs walk me out of the district. "Speaking of your paintjob, you might want to recalibrate your paint nanites just for the job."

He did have a point. If someone from the college happened to wander too far out one night then they would instantly recognize me. I wasn't sure what the college would do if they found out I was working as a club performer but I knew they were looking for any excuse to get rid of me. They couldn't know. "Yeah, what colors do you think?" I ask, curious.

Skyquake was the first to answer. "You could always go with white and black. It's an easy change from red to black," he suggests.

"Red and gold," Dreadwing offers.

I tried to think of what I would look like with each but I figured I'd just have to try on some new colors. "White and black only work on certain Cybertronians and I don't think I'm one," I chuckle lightly just as we get to the edge of the district. "I'll try some new colors on and show you tomorrow night. Thanks for the escort."

"See you _tonight_," Dreadwing smirks before I transform and drive towards the college quickly.

* * *

><p>College was hell the next day with just four hours of recharge. It had taken one hour to get back to my dorm and I had to wake up an hour before class so that was two hours lost. It was going to take some time for my body to become accustomed to four hours of recharge but once I grew used to the hours, my body would recharge more effectively and it would be enough.<p>

I had a break between my first and second class that morning so I took a short nap to help but it was still hard. Thankfully, I had some time before I had to be back after my last class and I could nap then too. I wasn't worried about my classes for today because I did my homework way in advance; I hated waiting until the last minute to finish something. It made me paranoid.

Honestly, I couldn't wait for classes to be over so I could go back to Torque. I was excited to get into it a little deeper. I was nervous to get on stage in front of so many watchers but the credits were good, or so I had heard. I was going to need a modification done before next semester for my upper level maintenance class and it was cheap. Besides, there was no way my Creators could afford any of my supplies on their working-class pay and I wouldn't burden them with it.

It wasn't too much longer before I had to leave for work and I found myself standing in front of the mirror. I changed my red to black and cringed; no, I was definitely not one that could work the white and black. I decided to try red and gold but grimaced at how gaudy I looked. I didn't like blue or green so those colors were out but maybe if I…

My white turned to black, I left my red alone and added some gold trim to my transformation seams and to frame my faceplate. It was a little more showy than I usually liked but it looked good, I'd give it that much. It would do, that was certain; I just needed Dreadwing and Skyquake's opinion.

Calibrating that setting, I went back to my preset red and white to drive off the campus. I stopped a few miles out and changed my colors before heading to Torque. No one would notice me in these new colors and my alt-mode was pretty normal but I still took the back roads. It was better to be safe than sorry.

The hour drive was nice to clear my thoughts but I was happy to see the familiar building as I pulled up. Dreadwing was standing out front again and I smiled, once I had transformed, at him. "Hey, Dreadwing," I call out.

He did a double take. "Ratchet? I hardly recognize you!" he gawks unabashed. "You look…good!"

I feel some heat run across my faceplate at his compliment, very aware that his optics were still drinking me in. It was nice to be admired by the large bouncer and I couldn't help but mimic Sunstreaker by swaying my hips fluidly. It was a lot easier now that I knew how to move my hip joints in such a way. "Thanks," I smile, running a servo down his arm.

His chuckle was deep and reverberated through his chassis into my servo. "You're getting way too good at this!" he comments before turning to open the door for me. "Come on, let's get you on stage before you fry my processor."

* * *

><p><em>Frag, Quake, you have to see R<em>_atchet,_ I send through our bond as I walk in behind the slighter mech.

_I was wonderin' what was fritzing your processor, _he responds with his usual humor. I wouldn't lie, I was still staring at the mech's seductively swinging aft. He had been enticing last night but this was…different. I never expected the little medical school mech to take to this line of work so quickly.

"Ratchet? Wow, nice look!" Rusty comments as we walk up to him. He was speaking with Sunny and it was hilarious to see the brightly colored mech's faceplate drop in shock. "Afraid someone might see you with us?"

Ratchet chuckles lightly, a sound that was a smooth tenor, and shook his head. "Nah, I don't want to give the university any more reason to get rid of me, is all," he explains with a small smile.

Rusty shook his head with a dramatic sigh. "They're prudes even though I've seen plenty of those professors out here before!" he shrugs with an expression that said everything. "Anyways, let's get you on stage. Sunny, why don't you go up there with him as a coach."

Coach, I could laugh at that all day. Sunny couldn't coach someone if he tried; he would just try to show Ratchet up, that's what he was going to do. Ratchet's optics held a bit of anxiety but he seemed to hold it back as he stepped up onto stage with the brighter mech. They seemed like polar opposites standing up there, one with bright colors and the other with dark.

Music started playing, a slow, sensual tempo with a deep bass that resounded through my chassis. Ratchet's form instantly relaxed as he let the music take over. He was such a quick learner because he watched the others last night and wasn't afraid to take from their dances. His hips started to sway, his optics slipping closed as he got lost in the music.

It was a beautiful, raw sight as he moved, looking as if he had a partner behind him. He wasn't dancing alone up there and I secretly hoped he was thinking of Skyquake and myself. There was this look of pure bliss on his faceplate, his derma parted just enough to be sensual.

My internals lit on fire when he opened his optics to look straight at me. The look in those blue orbs was…smothering. He looked as if he wanted me right there; he was begging for me to join him with just one sultry glance. Then, his optics shifted to look straight at Rusty and if he didn't respond the same way I did, he had faulty equipment.

Ratchet moved forward, his pedes hitting right on the beat, to run his servo down one of the poles set up on the stage. His hips swung just enough to be subtly sexy and I couldn't help but watch as his fingers slipped down the pole, delicate and tender. He sauntered around the pole, cutting off optic contact only when he had to.

I felt my panel internally ping at me as he gazed at me from around the pole, servos grasping the metal firmly. He dipped down, bending his knees and sliding his servos down the rod. His body came back up with a bounce and I couldn't help but let my optics watch the path his servos took as they unfurled and stroked up the pole deliberately.

What I wouldn't give to be that pole.

I was so distracted by the mech that I didn't even hear my brother come up beside me. He said nothing, though, just as mesmerized as I was. "Primus above," he mutters, optics wide. I could feel his frequency flaring in his response to the show; he was probably feeding off of my own frequency, which was doing the same thing.

We were both heavily disappointed when the song ended and could do nothing but stand there in a shocked silence. Rusty, thankfully, was pretty much immune to this sort of thing and spoke up for us. "You're a natural!" he laughs bright, servos on his wide, bulky hips. "You better be careful, Sunny, he almost upstaged you!"

"Wait, Sunny was dancing?" I snap out of my stupor to question my brother quietly.

"Evidently," he mutters back with a smirk and shrug. "I wasn't watching him."

Ratchet comes down off of the stage with an irate Sunny but walks straight to us. "How'd I do?" he asks, still slightly out of breath.

"Can I be the pole next time?" Skyquake asks, wrapping his huge arm around the mech's shoulders. It was odd to see Quake acting so friendly to another mech but there was something about Ratchet: I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

Ratchet laughs softly. "You were," he comments, flushing lightly.

Skyquake's faceplate drops before he starts to walk away. "I'll be back, I need a cold shower," he mumbles even as Ratchet is grabbing his arm to keep him there with a playful laugh.

I smile as the two banter; noticing that Ratchet seemed so much more relaxed than when I first saw him yesterday. For that matter, he was so much more laid-back than when he first walked in! The waves rolling off of my brother's spark were soaked in the same kind of ease; it wasn't typical of him. He didn't trust very often, neither of us did, but Ratchet seemed so…honest. He wasn't false like so many college mechs.

* * *

><p>It was exhilarating to be up on that stage. Terrifying at first, I'll admit, but once I got into the music, I felt comfortable and grew more confident. It also helped that Dreadwing was there with his arms crossed, watching me. I think that was all the encouragement I needed to just do my best.<p>

Then, Sunny started dancing on the other side of the stage from me and it became a little more competitive. He was trying to show me up, I knew this, and for some reason…I wanted Dreadwing to only look at me. My optics, closed to enjoy the music, snapped open and I caught his gaze easily.

It was empowering to hold his stare. I let myself pretend that he and his brother were dancing with me. My body writhed in ways that I didn't know it could as I tried to show him what I wanted to do to him on the dance floor. He was my captive; I could see the obvious shock and lust reflected through his red optics.

Averting my optics, I looked to Rusty whose optics were bouncing back and forth between Sunny and myself. The brighter mech was already on the pole doing things I knew I wasn't cut out for so I relied on my optics. Rusty's expression changed as he turned to see me staring at him; I just shifted my gaze, no change in emotion and I could see it affected him.

Powerful, I felt powerful as I went to use the pole slowly. My hips were seductive, easily swaying back and forth to the slow beat as my fingers reached out to caress the cold metal of the pole. Dreadwing's gaze was like warm fingers running down my chassis and I couldn't help the venting of air as my spark pounded. Heat was running down my panel as I saw the dirty thoughts reflected in his optics.

Then, his brother joined him and I felt my metal electrify hotly. The pole was no longer inanimate but the two mechs standing there, watching me with heady optics. I gyrated on the metal, arching my back and throwing my helm back in reckless abandon. Who knew dancing could be so addictive and sultry?

The practice had been all well and good but now that I stood backstage, I felt my nerves take over again. I was up first in the line-up, being new, and I could feel my spark pound harshly just as my stage name was called. I decided it was too risky to use Ratchet so Rusty had offered to give me a new name for the stage.

"Please welcome to the stage for the first time, First Aid!" Rusty called over the loud speaker just as the music started.

As soon as the music cascaded over my body, I felt all the anxiety wash out of me. With a few quick vents of air, I opened my optics and took to the stage for the second time.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, this is kind of an Alternate Universe story but not really.

Ratchet has a sleeker body because if he doesn't need all of the heavy armor than I feel that he would be slighter so I kind of took some liberties there. This is also before the war when he was a lot younger and more naive so his personality is a little different from his grouchy counterpoint in Prime.

I love Sunstreaker, don't get me wrong! I'm not bashing him, promise! Also, I don't know Sunstreaker's age but I'm almost positive he wasn't born yet at this point in time but I put him in anyways! xD I figured he was the best mech to be in this type of story!

Yes, I used First Aid's name as a stage name! XD I just think it could be a sexy, dirty name if you really took it that way!

Alright, I'm done ranting about my thoughts!

Thanks to everyone who commented and favorited my story! I really appreciate it!

I hope you enjoyed it! :D


	19. Side Job: Part Two

**Side Job**

_Universe: _(slight)AU Prime

_Story Rating: _MA+/R

_Part Rating: _MA

_Warnings: _Slight sexual content; Slight non-con; Sexy Ratchet.

_Pairings: _DreadwingxRatchetxSkyquake

_Description: _Ratchet, in search of a job to pay for medical school expenses, ends up at a Nightclub called Friction. He finds himself enthralled by the underground world of dancing and performing along with two of the bouncers.

XoXoX

Sometimes, the best part of my day was going to Friction.

I was starting to figure out why scholarship students usually dropped out before they graduated. It was hard enough to keep my homework caught up with my job but when I had to spend extra time to make sure everything was immaculate so that I wasn't failed for the hell of it, made things hard. Even if I got some of the highest grades, I was disrespected by everyone. Professors, faculty, administration and students alike did not hold back in their obvious spite.

It was wonderful to get my escape in Friction. At Friction, I was respected and appealing. I had gone from the bottom to the second highest paid dancer at Friction in two months and it felt great. It wasn't uncommon for me to walk away at the end of the night with up to five hundred credits, which more than took care of any modifications I needed.

Stepping down from the stage, I glanced over the dance floor until I spotted the twins at the edge. Dreadwing waved me over even as I was making my way across the crowd. It was difficult when people tried to stop you to dance; I didn't mind dancing with the clientele but I hadn't seen the twins all night. They had been on the doors up until a few minutes ago and I really needed a break to rest my aching pedes.

"Hey guys!" I yell over the music. Slipping in-between the two mechs, I wrap one arm around Skyquake's waist and the other arm around Dreadwing.

"_Hey, you're off tomorrow night, right?" _Dreadwing asks through comm.-link. I didn't usually give out my comm.-link frequency but it was easier than talking out loud in the club.

I tilt my helm, curious. _"Yeah, why?"_

Skyquake gives his usual pervert-smirk. _"We have some high-grade we've been saving for a special night and we figured it was the best time,"_ he explains, confusing me.

"_Best night? Why?"_

"_The end of your semester," _Dreadwing chuckles lightly, making me flush. They knew when the end of my semester was? _"We want to celebrate before your finals. You in?"_

I thought about it for probably a second before I smiled. _"What the Pit, why not?" _I concede easily. What did I have to do anyways after I was done with my homework? I usually just spent my nights off reading. It'd be nice to be around the twins outside of work for once.

"_Great, how about we meet up here and we'll take you to the house?" _Dreadwing suggests with an easy smile.

My internal clock pinged at me and I jumped when I realized it was ten minutes until I was needed in the VIP room. _"I have to go!"_ I wave to the mechs before I rush off to the back rooms. It was where I made most of my credits because it was where our most important clientele could make personal requests as to which dancers they wanted. The clients could pay by the song, by the half-hour or by the hour; it wasn't cheap, either.

I walked behind the bar, patting Slick, the femme bartender, and Smelter, the mech, on the backs as I went by. The door closed behind me and cut out some of the noise. It was nice to get away from the loud volume every now and then. The door into the VIP section of the building was guarded by another bouncer, Steeltrap, and he wasn't as nice as the twins but he did his job well.

"Hey Steeltrap," I comment, allowed back after he confirmed that I had an appointment. I was in room three this time and I took a second to check my appearance in a mirror before deciding that my paintjob was immaculate. Some of the other mechs would buff my paintjob before work if I gave them a desperately needed tune-up. All of their credits went to taking care of their families or paying their rent so they didn't usually have extra for visits to the medic. It was a fair trade.

Putting on my sultriest expression, I opened the door with my personal code. It opened with a click and I leaned against the frame, stretching my body out for a good picture. First impressions were everything, right? "Waiting for-" I falter when I see the red and white paintjob.

"Something wrong?" he asks curiously, turning his pristine blue optics to me. This wasn't just any Medic either…this was my college advisor.

I was slagged.

"I've just…" I run my denta across my lower derma, giving my best innocent look. "Never had a Medic before."

His optics flare with lust but I see no recognition in them. "Oh really?" he perks up, watching me from behind his cube of fine high-grade. "Well, come on in, I won't bite."

Something in the tone of his voice told me he would, given the chance, but I stepped further into the room anyways. The door clicked shut behind, making me feel a little trapped. There was light jazz flowing through the speakers into the room, a personal choice from the professor, and I let my hips sway to the smooth rhythm. I wasn't a big fan of the genre but I could deal, for now.

"Come, sit," he offers, patting the place beside him on the couch. I slip over, playfully hesitant, to sit down next to him. My leg lightly brushes him, just a careless slide, but enough to make his optic ridge quirk slightly. "You know…" he starts, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to run his fingers across my neck teasingly. "With a name like First Aid, I would figure you were a Medic enthusiast."

I flutter my optics at him in mock embarrassment. "I much prefer the job of nurse over medic," I say, running my fingers down his spark chamber lightly.

His optics don't even try to hide the blatant lust directed my way. "A little helper, huh?" he smirks, pulling me closer. I could smell the high-grade on his breath and it made my fuel tanks churn with disgust. "Why don't you come help me than."

I was glad when his thirty minutes were up. He was a nasty perverted old model with no shame. My pedes were quick as I headed down the hall.

"Stop it!"

Pausing, I looked at the door to my left. That hadn't sounded like a jokingly said phrase. No, that had sounded…frantic.

"I said get off!"

I rushed down the hallway to Steeltrap. "I think there's a problem with room number two," my vocalizer was tense but the bouncer didn't hesitate to follow me. His fingers quickly pressed the code into the pad.

The door clicked open to reveal Sunstreaker being shoved against a wall by an irate client. Steeltrap moved quicker than a grounder his size should but the other mech was quickly jerked away from the bright dancer and hauled out of the room. There was a lot of screaming and kicking but Steeltrap easily handled the mech, carrying him, bodily, from the room.

"Sunstreaker," I rush forward as the door clicks shut behind me. He crumbled to the floor, nearly lifeless, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Sunstreaker, are you okay?"

He glared at me from over his knees but it was very weak. "I nearly got raped, what do you think?" he snaps harshly. I know it's not directed at me and it doesn't stop me from sitting down next to him.

I gently place a servo on his shoulder. "Do you want me to check for damages?" I whisper tenderly, surprised he didn't jerk away from my touch.

"S-Slag-head dented my panel," he mutters into his arms. Looking down, I realized he had his legs up to hide his badly damaged panel; it looked like the mech had tried to rip it right out by the seams. "It hurts."

The desperate twinge in his vocalizer sent a shock of pain through my spark. "Here, let me see," I suggest, touching his knee. "You know I won't hurt you, Sunny." He squeezes his optics closed before finally giving in, parting his legs. I lightly touch his panel to see if I can take it off manually and repair the dents; it was a simple procedure that didn't need any tools to complete. "I'm going to take it off, okay?"

Sunny looks a little frightened but nods his helm after a second. My nimble fingers find the manual latch quickly, glad when the panel drops instantly into my servo. He covers his interface array, embarrassed, but I'm more occupied with the panel that I start to smooth out with a few well-placed applications of pressure. With a few more seconds, I placed the panel back into it's spot and clicked the manual lock shut.

"All finished," I say with a smile. "If it starts to hurt just come back and I'll-"

Without warning, he wraps his arms around my neck and hugs me. It was uncharacteristic but not entirely unpleasant. "Thank you, Ratchet," he whispers, obviously being sincere. "I don't know what would have happened had you not walked by."

Returning the gesture, I smile softly to myself. "You would have done the same for me," I point out as he pulls away.

He opens his mouth to say something just as the door clicks open to show three mechs standing there. Two were very familiar and looked worried while the other, a red blur, rushed forward to grab Sunny. His servos cupped the mech's face gently. "Sunny, oh Primus, are you okay?" he questions rapidly.

"I'm fine, Sideswipe," Sunny smiles, wrapping his arms around the neck of the new mech. "You shouldn't have come out here, 'Swipe. You have work in the morning."

"Shut up, you need me more than work," the mech nearly snaps but I could hear the worry in his vocalizer.

Dreadwing's servo took mine to pull me up off of the floor. "You okay, Ratch?" the mech asks, obviously very worried. His brother looked just as bad, if not worse.

"I'm fine," I chuckle, patting them both on their arms. "I wasn't the one attacked."

Both released the air they had been holding and I felt flattered that they would be worried for me. If this sort of thing happened at college…no one would care. It was the sad truth of life as a scholarship student but it was nice to know someone cared.

"I'm definitely going to need that high-grade tomorrow," I comment playfully as they lead me out of the room.

"Well, we have plenty," Skyquake smirks, wrapping his heavy arm around my shoulders to pull me against his side. He was so forward. Other dancers kept telling me that he was a reclusive mech that didn't touch others very often but he wasn't afraid to show me affection. Dreadwing was a little more laid back when it came to physical contact than his brother.

I didn't say anything as I was led towards the front door. My shift was over and I really wanted to recharge. Thankfully, I didn't have any classes tomorrow but finals were coming up and I was going to get up early to do some studying and last minute homework assignments. I just wished it wasn't so far away to the dorm; I was ready to crash right there.

"Why don't you stay at our house tonight?" Dreadwing randomly asks as we step outside into the cool air.

"Excuse me?" I can't help but question with a laugh.

Dreadwing's faceplate stayed stoic. "All three of us are off and it's a lot closer than your dorm," he explains slowly. "Besides, you're exhausted and I don't really want you driving home by yourself."

My faceplate eases into a look of appreciation. He was just worried about me getting into some trouble for what I did tonight. "I'm not going to get jumped," I smile, touching the mech's arm.

"No, Dreadwing's right," Skyquake joins in on the conversation, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "Come on, you can stay the night and head back to college tomorrow after some recharge."

I wanted to argue, I really did, but my processor was alerting me to my need of recharge and I sighed. "Fine, but only tonight," I say firmly as they lead me down the road.

They hadn't lied; their house was like two minutes down the road. It was a small house with a dingy paintjob crammed in a row of identical homes. It reminded me of the house that my Creator's currently lived in and as the door was opened I couldn't help but find it homey. The living area was small with a large couch and holo-projector; there was a small dining area but they led me straight through a side door into their berthroom.

"I can just recharge on the couch," I point out, glancing around their room at the various things on their walls. It was sparsely furnished but the berth was monstrous! I mean, with two mechs that size, it had to be but it was still a sight to see.

"There's plenty of room for all of us on the berth," Skyquake shrugs as if it meant nothing for three mechs to recharge in the same berth.

Opening my mouth to retort, Dreadwing shuts me up with a pat to the back. "We're not making you recharge on the couch and you won't kick us out of our berth so this is the only solution," he comments with a chuckle as Skyquake picks up some of the mess around the room. It was kind of humorous to see him fretting over the room.

Sighing, I didn't have the energy to argue with them. "Fine," I mutter, feeling a little awkward. I could grind up against strangers all night but put me in a berth with two mechs I considered good (if not best) friends and I turned gawky. "I'm exhausted."

Dreadwing strokes my back lightly. "Recharge, Ratchet," he smiles before turning away. "I'll join you later."

"Mm-hm," I mutter, climbing up into the berth. My exhaustion was heady and strong as I finally laid my helm down on one of the pillows. Recharge slipped up on me even before my body was completely relaxed in the berth.

XoXoX

It was…different waking up with another person in the berth.

Dreadwing and I had been sleeping in the same berth since the day we were created; it was normal for spark-split twins to share the same space for their whole functions. I couldn't imagine life without my brother and he couldn't imagine life without me either. We didn't have a chance to go to college like Ratchet so we had been sent to the Pit as gladiators. It was a simple choice to get a home together and this was the only one with a big enough berth for the both of us.

It was big enough for our guest as well.

I smirked as I looked down at the mech who, at some time in the night, had cuddled up to my side. His helm was rested on my outstretched arm with his leg bent to wrap around mine. It was…surprisingly comfortable. I wasn't one for physical contact with anyone other than my brother but Ratchet was different. From the first time he had walked into Friction, I could see that there was something different about him.

I was proven correct once I got to know the mech. He was raised in an area like this with a middle-, working-class family and understood the employees of the club perfectly. Even through that, he was still going to medical school. I thought he was going to be snobby and was using the job as a joke but he often spent his free time before and after his shift giving tune-ups to the staff. Pit, Dreadwing and I were in pristine condition because of his frequent tune-ups! We had plenty of credits saved to go to the local Medic but he was a frag-head and terrible.

Ratchet had a spark of gold.

Shifting, I wrapped the arm he was using as a pillow around his body, pulling him closer to my side. He barely hummed before pressing his faceplate into my neck cables. His arm slipped across my waist, hugging tightly. My brother, used to being in Ratchet's place, sidled up behind the mech. It was the strangest picture I had ever seen but somehow…pleasant. I could definitely get used to recharging like this.

Ratchet mumbled something in his recharge, his warm air venting across my neck cables. With a smile, I let my free servo reach out to intertwine our fingers gently. His servo instinctively wrapped around mine, sending a shock of content pleasure through my systems. It was nice to be like this with my brother and Ratchet.

It felt like home.

XoXoX

Why was my berth so warm?

It was the first thing that ran through my processor when I started to come out of recharge. My dorm was usually freezing because of my roommate, who couldn't stand the temperature in the positives. No, my frame was surrounded by a blanket of warmth that tempted me to stay in the berth just a few minutes longer. This was the first time I hadn't woken up shivering, maybe I should just enjoy it.

Well, until something behind me moved.

My optics snapped open even before they fluttered to life. I was pressed between two bodies and it took me a second for my processor to register who they were. Dreadwing and Skyquake, right, I had nearly forgotten that they had invited me back to stay with them last night. I knew for a fact that we hadn't been like this last night but I couldn't claim that it was uncomfortable.

Actually, I was quite comfortable with my helm rested on Skyquake's shoulder and Dreadwing's heavy arm wrapped around my waist. I could say what I wanted but the two mechs made really great pillows and blankets. It was tempting to just close my optics and reset my alarm for another hour of recharge.

I probably would have, had Dreadwing not stirred in his recharge. "Mm," he hums contently, hugging himself closer. "Good morning."

"Morning," I whisper, not wanting to disturb the sleeping mech under me. "I need to leave soon. I've got some studying to do before tonight."

Dreadwing shifts so that he can prop his head up on his servo, staring down at me. "You could do it here if you wanted," he offers with a smile. "My brother and I do some work for the lady that lives two houses down so you would have peace and quiet."

His offer touched me, it really did. I had never had anyone care so much that he would offer me his house to study in. How could I decline such a spark-felt invitation? "Alright, I guess it wouldn't hurt to study here," I whisper, flushing lightly at the way he was looking down at me. There was this drowsy, relaxed look about him that wasn't normal for the huge mech.

I look down at the still recharging twin as the arm wrapped around my back tightened, pulling me closer. My chest was already pressed against his side so I wasn't sure how he managed to do such a thing but I figured I could rest a little more until he woke up. Dreadwing chuckled at my misfortune but sidled up against my back again, his vented breath caressing the back of my neck lightly.

It was the most comfortable I had ever been.

When Skyquake had finally woken up, he playfully refused to get up and there was a scuffle that commenced where Dreadwing tried to pry me away from his twin. It was so much fun that I laughed until my vents hurt, somehow ending up on the ground lying on top of Dreadwing. Skyquake had managed to stay on the bed but he was half off of it, laughing at us.

We slowly stopped laughing, subsiding into giggles then to silence. My vents hurt so badly but as I started to get off of Dreadwing, his servos caught my waist. "Alright, really, I need to go get my things!" I chuckle but his grip was like iron. "Dreadwing?"

Then, without me even seeing the large mech move, Skyquake was hovering over me. My faceplate heated at the position. Dreadwing sat both of us up so that I could be deposited on his twin's lap, pressed between the two of them. Liquid dread slipped down my spinal struts right before a stab of pleasure when Skyquake's derma found mine and stole the air right out of my vents.

My servos lifted to fight back but I found them resting on the mech's shoulders uselessly as Dreadwing's derma ran across my neck cables. It released all of the tension in my struts and I relaxed into their grip, letting my arms slide around Skyquake's neck. Servos from behind slipped down my sides, catching sensitive nodes as they went. My moan was lost in the kiss as his servos joined in the search for my most sensitive spots.

My panel was on fire as deft fingers slipped into the seams of my hips and plucked at the wires there. Skyquake released my derma so that I could lean my helm back against his twin's shoulder, moaning when Skyquake's glossa ran down my neck to my spark chamber. I felt fingers slip across my interface panel and I was ready to pop it open when the doorbell sounded.

"Frag!" Skyquake mutters.

My processor is hazy with left over lust as the two mechs help me stand to my pedes. Then, they are gone to check who was at the door, leaving me standing there like a processor-less idiot. "Where did I go just now?" I wonder aloud just as I hear voices from the living room.

Curious, I finally find the ability to walk to the doorway, peeking around into the living room. They were both standing at the front door, speaking with someone that I couldn't see around their bulky figures. "Yeah, we'll be there after we wash up, Axel," Dreadwing chuckles good-naturedly.

"Hurry up, I'm rustin' over here!" the unfamiliar vocalizer chides before the person walks away and Dreadwing closes the door.

The twins turn around and catch me eavesdropping. A tingle of remembered pleasure ghosts through my systems, causing me to duck back a bit but not completely out of sight. "Want to wash up with us, Ratch?" Skyquake asks with a dangerous smirk on his face. It was inviting and very tempting but I knew everything _but_ washing would get done if I joined them.

"I should probably go get my things," I state, trying to escape so that I could think during the drive back to my dorm room.

Dreadwing made his way over, placing a large servo on the frame well above my head and leaning casually. "You're going to come back, right?" Even though it sounded like a question, it wasn't. He knew I was coming back; I knew I was coming back. Hell, the person at the door probably knew I was coming back!

Straightening a bit more to make myself feel taller, I gave him my best casual, careless grin. I did this all the time at Friction so why couldn't I do it with the twins? It didn't make any sense why my faceplate shut down when I wanted to be sultry with them. "If you're lucky," I say, trying for playful innocence.

I'm pretty sure I failed but his optic ridge quirked anyways in interest. Instead of answering, though, he leaned forward and pressed his derma to mine in a kiss that was like his brothers but different at the same time. Skyquake had been fierce, domineering but his brother's was slow and deliberate, robbing the feeling from my legs. His glossa was thorough in exploring my mouth and his other servo slid down my back to pull me closer.

His servo and body were the only things keeping me upright as he kissed the sense right out of my processor. Then, he was pulling away and I couldn't help the small moan of disappointment. It, of course, embarrassed me a few milliseconds later but it only made him smirk, his red optics narrowing knowingly.

Skyquake cleared his vocalizer, impatiently waiting at the door to their wash racks. "Come on, Dreadwing, save it for later," the twin leers as his twin pulls away from me. I lean against the doorframe until the feeling returns to my legs, watching them disappear from the room.

"Frag-heads," I mutter without meaning it.

I was just frustrated that my spike was ready to pressurize and my valve was lubricated, ready to go, but I had to wait. As I walked out of the house, I realized I was excited. Well, obviously I was excited but there was something more to this than just the need to overload. This was something more than that. It was…special.

The drive gave me plenty of time to think but all I could conjure were fantasies about tonight. There wasn't an ounce of regret for what I wanted from the twins; they knew what they wanted and I did too. The only problem was that our wants might be different. They knew, or they should, that I wasn't a one-night kind of mech. I didn't interface with just anymech. I could play coy with the clientele at Friction all I wanted but interface was a little more intimate for me.

It was my only fear about this whole incident.

I wanted to, badly, but I wouldn't do it unless there was more than just interface involved. I would admit to having feelings for the twins. They had started out as coworkers and had worked their way to my best friends and now…I could honestly see myself being with them as more. They were special for me and there wasn't a day to go by that I didn't think about them at some point or another. I had been too busy to think that they might feel the same for me or, Pit, even to admit that I felt this way!

By the time I got back to the twin's house, I had changed my paintjob twice; once before getting back to the college and then to my Friction paintjob again. It was getting tiring to change them back and forth; plus, sometimes I forgot to change one of the colors. Once, I had walked into my dorm room without changing my gold highlights and my roommate, up late studying, had done a double take. Thankfully, I explained to him that I had been out on the town and my friend convinced me to change my nanites. He believed it, the slag-head; I didn't have friends at the college, everyone knew that.

I could hear the twins laughing a couple of houses down so I went through the door and instantly got down to work. I needed to get through all of my homework before tonight and do some studying for my hardest classes. Exam's week was coming up fast and the twins were a distraction, a nice distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.

XoXoX

We worked in Axle's house for almost half the day before she finally relented. Her house was a piece of slag, to put it bluntly. It was falling apart and she was too old to do much about it so she had us do repairs every week. She couldn't pay us much but we took a small amount of credits and some of her energon goodies. She made them while we worked our servos to the struts and when they were done, so were we.

"Come on, boys. They're done," her raspy vocalizer calls from the kitchen. We were in the wash racks fixing a leaky pipe that was causing her water bill to skyrocket. Standing as we finished up, she called yet again. "It's about time."

I roll my optics at Skyquake who returns the gesture simultaneously. "We're done with your wash rack, Axel," I tell her, taking the sweet smell of energon goodies into my olfactory receptors.

The white and blue femme comes out of the kitchen with a tray full of the delicacies and some fresh energon for us to drink. "Thank you, boys," she gives that half-smile she was famous for. "Now, why don't you get that friend of yours from your house and bring him over for some energon and goodies."

We stare at her, shocked.

"Oh don't give me that," she waves dismissively. "I'm old not obsolete! I saw him leave and come back from your house while you were working. Now, go get the young mech so I can meet him."

How could you say no to Axel? I nod to Skyquake and stand up to exit the house. Might as well let the college student meet Axel now; he could handle her better than most. He probably knew someone like her from his own street.

I walked into the house to find Ratchet sitting on the couch with several datapads surrounding him on the table and next to him. "Time for a break," I say, catching his attention finally.

He blinks his optics as if trying to refocus them then rubs his faceplate. "Primus, I've been here a long time!" he chuckles before setting the datapad to the side. "A break'd be nice."

I smile, gesturing for him to follow. "Axel makes the best energon goodies and she wants to meet you," I explain as I wrap my arm around the mech's shoulders to guide him out of the house.

"Energon goodies?" he questions, a sparkle lighting up his optics. That got his attention. "I haven't had energon goodies in a while."

"She has a bit of a sarcastic personality though," I warn and it's nice to hear him laugh happily.

"Then we'll get along just fine!"

* * *

><p><strong><span>To be continued...<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: Finals are almost done and I got caught up in a fantastic book so this is a little late! xD Again, I love Sunstreaker so I had to show his softer side in this one! :D

Thanks for all of your feedback! I appreciate it!


	20. Side Job: Part Three

**Side Job**

_Universe: _(slight)AU Prime

_Story Rating: _MA+/R

_Part Rating: _MA+

_Warnings: _Sexual content; Sexy Ratchet is sexy.

_Pairings: _DreadwingxRatchetxSkyquake

_Description:_Ratchet, in search of a job to pay for medical school expenses, ends up at a Nightclub called Friction. He finds himself enthralled by the underground world of dancing and performing along with two of the bouncers.

* * *

><p>Making energon goodies this amazing must be some kind of crime. They melted in your mouth and warmed your fuel tanks with their sweetness. I couldn't help but sigh in contentment at this feeling. I reminded me of days off from school where my Creators and I would make energon sweets for the sparklings in the neighborhood. Most of them were gone before we even finished but the sparklings really enjoyed them.<p>

"Ms. Axel, these energon goodies are amazing!" I compliment before taking another one without hesitation.

"Just Axel's fine," she grunts but with a half smile. I could see why the twins would be so close to her; they were pretty much her sparklings. I could see the appreciation for the two in her optics and I wondered if the twins even had Creators that were still alive. Those who lived in the Pit never knew when they were going to lose a loved one in a fatal accident. It was the nature of their jobs, always wondering who was coming back and who wasn't. "You one of those mechs from that club?"

My faceplate flushes just lightly. "Yes," I say and open my mouth to explain.

"It's his side job, Axel. He goes to college," Dreadwing fills in the gaps for me with a half smile that was similar to the femme's.

Her red optics shift to me but she doesn't show any surprise. "How'd you end up with the twins then?" she said but I could hear the humor in her voice. She was messing with them.

"Hey, we're good mechs!" Skyquake retorts with a half smirk.

She scrutinized the two before looking back at me. "He could do better," she jibes playfully. I can't help but laugh; she reminded me so much of the older femmes in my neighborhood. They were tough and I was guessing, by all the scars on her frame, that she used to be a Pit warrior. It took a strong Cybertronian to last until retirement in the gladiator Pits.

We sat around for about an hour, eating energon goodies, sipping at our drinks and talking. It felt nice to be around my type of Cybertronians again; I had forgotten what it was like to be respected as an equal. The college students were always looking down on me in a condescending way and hardly anyone spoke a word to me, even in passing. To be around the twins and this old model was…comforting.

"Well, I'm sorry to cut this short, Axel, but we've got some high-grade calling our designation," Dreadwing excuses us while standing up from his spot.

She chuckled lightly, patting my shoulder as I stood. "You're going to make a great Medic one day, Ratchet," she says with a genuine smile.

My spark jumps in shock. "How did you—"

"You can't fool this femme, kid. I know a medical school student when I see one," she explains with a wink before shooing us out of her house so that she could get some sleep. It wasn't even night yet but I guess being an old model took some energy out of you.

The high-grade was good, really good, and personally made by the twins in their free time, which didn't shock me in the least. Especially, when I took my first sip and had to close my optics at how strong it was. It took a few sips to get used to it but after a while we were completely relaxed. I felt the anticipation of where all of this led soaking into my spark the more high-grade I took into my system. Were they going to let me get completely overcharged before they did anything?

Finally, after two cubes of the high-grade my glossa wasn't under my control anymore. "Are you guys going to frag me or what?" I blurt before I even have time to regret it. Dreadwing spewed the high-grade he had been taking a sip of and Skyquake nearly choked when he burst out laughing. In my overcharged state of processor, I didn't find anything funny. "Stop laughing at me, I'm serious!"

Dreadwing finally got the liquid down before he let his optics stare at me in shock. "Scrap, Ratch, you're cut off!" he mutters before taking the cube from my servo. I don't even have the processor to fight back; I had forgotten to drink after my second cube anyways. "We weren't going to do anything to you without your permission and you didn't seem interested until just now."

"What do I have to do, take my panel off and throw it at you?" I slur, throwing my servos in the air. Yeah, I was kind of obnoxious while overcharged. Skyquake was nearly on the floor, he was laughing so hard. "Stop laughing!" I shove at the hysterical twin's shoulder only to find my offending servo grabbed and restrained to the back against the spark chamber of the other twin.

His red optics pin me down in an almost physical way, sending shocks of pleasure down my spinal struts. "We'll give you what you want, Ratch," he whispers, voice dipping low in a sexy way. "All you had to do was ask real nice."

My spark pounded against its chamber as Dreadwing slipped into my peripheral vision, waiting for my answer. "No one night stand," I find the coherency to slur. The two mechs exchanged looks then smirked.

"We're not the one night stand kind of twins," Dreadwing leans down to whisper across my audio receptors. My desperate moan is swallowed as he captures my derma for one of those processor-frying kisses. His glossa was slow and deliberate, mapping every inch of my oral cavity.

Fingers from his brother's servos slowly slip into seams to tease wires, sending heat to my panel. Dreadwing's derma separate from mine as he shifts our position. His servo slips under my thighs and I find my legs spread apart so his brother's glossa could run over the seams of my panel.

I toss my helm back against the blue twin's shoulder, moaning softly. One glossa ran across my heated panel while the other preoccupied itself with my neck cables. Needless to say, I was in heaven as the two twins lavished me with pleasure after pleasure until my panel clicked open on its own. My vocalizer glitched as my spike pressurized right into Skyquake's mouth, the warmth and moisture raking my desire higher. "F-Frag!" I mutter into my servo, nearly overwhelmed with need even as I hear Dreadwing's panel open.

"So wet, already?" the twin holding me up taunts playfully. The tip of his spike teases the entrance of my valve and I can't help but groan at the friction, gripping Skyquake's helm for balance. There were too many things happening at once; I couldn't decide what to think about so I just let my processor shut down momentarily.

"P-Please!" I find what little coherency is left to beg, arching against the mechs desperately.

Dreadwing's derma quirk into a smirk against my shoulder just as he starts to press his spike past the rim of my valve. His spike, surprising enough, wasn't unbearably wide but the further he pressed in, the more I realized he had a good length to him. My processor stalls when he jerks up the last little bit, his pelvic plating grinding against mine, even as his tip strikes a hard-to-reach bundle of nodes at the back of my valve. My optics flutter as he rolls his hips, gently messaging that bundle with his brother running his glossa up the underside of my spike.

"Bear with us," Dreadwing whispers into my audio receptors, confusing me.

Well, I was confused until I felt one of Skyquake's large fingers press against my valve. I wasn't an idiot, I knew what they were doing but it still frightened me. "I've never-"

"Sh, that's why we're going slow," the blue twin soothes, nipping at my neck cables to distract me. My spark, still a little apprehensive, clenches in pleasure when Skyquake's mouth returns to my spike. It was distracting me from the stretch in my valve as the finger presses into me all the way. My moan was loud as Dreadwing continues thrusting into my valve, his brother's finger moving against his brother's motion. "See, that's not so bad."

His voice reverberated through my plating pleasantly as I felt him keep that same rhythm. "I'm adding another," Skyquake whispers, his derma brushing across my spike as he speaks.

I was ready for it and actually enjoyed the sensation this time around. My valve could handle their two spikes, I knew this, but it still frightened me to think that I was going to be stretched so far. Skyquake thrust his fingers into my valve in contrary motion to his brother's spike and I had to admit that my body was heating rapidly from the extra stretch.

Dreadwing shifted so that Skyquake could get up onto the couch, lying on his back before I was deposited across the green mech's chest plate. I relaxed against the warm spark chamber, straddling his waist before I felt two tips press against my valve. With a slow exhalation of air from my oral vent, they pressed forward, breaching my rim with their spikes. There was pain involved, I knew their would be, but it was also incredibly arousing to know that both of my lovers were inside of me at one time. Twins usually took the same partner so this was a good way for all three to be engaged in the interface.

My vocalizer failed me as they started to thrust. It was together at first and then they started to deviate until they were each going contrary to the other. My processor was fried and I couldn't help but scream as they sped up, rocking into me with perfect rhythm. Had I known twins were so good in the berth, I would have taken a pair sooner!

Dreadwing's oral vent blew hot air against my back, his hips colliding with my aft hard enough to rock my entire frame. Skyquake's servos were busying themselves with my spike and my hip joint. I didn't usually last so short a time in the berth but with their contrary motion, I felt my vents pull air desperately into my system until they hitch with pleasure. With one more thrust, I let the air out in the form of a scream as my body spasms uncontrollably. With the fierce clenching of my valve, the other two cry my name in unison before they spill their hot transfluid into my core.

"Frag," Skyquake mutters, my faceplate pressed against his chest where I collapsed when my legs wouldn't hold me up anymore. I vent as much air as I can to cool my systems, very aware of the other twin resting against my back. He was propped up on his forearms but still looming down on me intimately. It was probably the most comfortable I had ever been; I was even a little disappointed when they pull their spikes out of my valve.

Dreadwing finally does pull away, standing on strong legs before leaning down to pick me up off of his twin. "A mech could get used to this," I chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carries me toward the berthroom. I cringe as I feel liquid between my thighs; thankfully, the twins didn't need to be told about my problem seeing as they were headed straight for the wash racks anyways.

* * *

><p>Final's week officially started two days after our first night together and they didn't mind if I came to their house to sleep (or not) afterwards, even if they were working. It was nice, really nice, to have someone to curl up with after a hard day of finals and work. Sometimes, we would just lie around talking until we fell into recharge or they'd make me overload until I fell into recharge. Either way, it was so relaxing to wake up in the morning with the two mechs warming me with their body temperature.<p>

It was at my last final that things went horribly wrong.

I was the last one to leave the room; I enjoyed taking my time on my finals and this one was especially difficult for me. My professor doubled as my adviser, which was kind of uncomfortable seeing as he came by Friction very frequently and would request me every time. Creepy? Yeah, just a little.

"Ratchet," the mech states in the vocalizer that set me on edge no matter how he was speaking. I never could lose the feel of his servos roaming across my form as I danced for him in that private room. "Lock the door, we need to speak."

Dread, slow and poisonous, slipped through my fuel tanks but I put on a confused expression before going to lock the door. I walked back over to stand in front of his desk, staring into his bright, well-kept blue optics defiantly. I knew what this was about. "Sir?"

He gives a slow, smug smirk. "Your roommate told me some...interesting information last night," he starts, watching my faceplate to find any changes. He takes my silence as a confirmation to continue. "From what he tells me, you get back from your classes and finals, sleep for a few hours, then suddenly disappear until early in the morning. Recently, you haven't been coming back at all. Want to explain that to me?"

"I was under the impression that all university students were allowed off campus whenever they wanted as long as it didn't effect their studies, sir," I say without changing the stoic look on my faceplate. He wasn't going to get under my metal; no, he was going to dig his own grave with me.

His smirk falters slightly but doesn't fall. "I had him follow you last night," he finally admits, making my spark burn with rage. "He saw you go to some hole in the wall dance bar, and then leave shortly after with two...ruffians."

"Ruffians?" I spit out with a dry laugh. That was the last straw. "Did my roommate happen to tell you just where I went?"

"It doesn't matter," he dismisses absently.

"No," I whisper, slowly moving the datapads to the edge of his desk. I easily climb up onto the desk, all the while deliberately changing my colors. "It matters, sir." His optics widened then it all snapped into place as I sat at the edge of his desk, my legs dangling to frame his knees. "You see, sir, I don't just go there to pick up ruffians. Friction is my part-time job that gets me all of those expensive upgrades and modifications I need for my major." I lean forward to brush my lips leisurely against his audio receptors. "You've been paying for this scholarship student to stay in school, sir."

He can be nothing but silent as he stares at me sitting there on his desk, a dirty glint in my optics. He was in just as much slag as I was and I had him cornered like a glitch-mouse. I was, suddenly, very glad he came into Friction so frequently. I had just as much blackmail on him as he did on me.

Finally, he finds his vocalizer. "Either way, that is an inappropriate part-time job option, Ratchet," he says in a weak voice. I had him and he knew it. "Either you quit that job or you'll be expelled."

"No, I won't," I smirk, crossing my legs. His optics followed every inch of their slow moment. I knew all of his darkest, dirtiest secrets and I wasn't above exploiting them like the dancer I was. "You think I didn't record our sessions, sir? If so, you're very naive." He went to protest but I placed a lithe digit against his derma. "Now, now, it's not illegal, sir. I have every right to record; you, on the other servo, do not. Besides, I think we can work this out like civilized adults."

My voice level never rose past a sultry whisper but I had him captivated, like usual. "I cannot allow you to work there and go to school here at the same time," he mutters honestly. I knew this rule very well but had hoped my caution would keep me out of trouble. Too bad my roommate was a spying glitch. "But...seeing as you are one of our brightest students...we can make a compromise."

I smirk triumphantly, leaning back on the desk. I stretch my abdomen out, effectively distracting the professor. "I'll quit my job at Friction but you have to find me a part-time job on campus. I think you know why no one will hire me," I quirk a fine optic ridge easily. When I saw the understanding in his optics, I continued. "All of those unfair grades you gave me on my assignments-shush now, I'm not stupid, sir-I want them changed to the proper grade."

He is glaring at me now, which was exactly what I wanted. "Is that all?" he snaps, irritable that I had outsmarted him.

"One more thing," I say, slowly slinking off of the desk, barely brushing his leg with mine. "You're going to make sure that no other professor tries to get me expelled from this school. Do I make myself clear?" His expression is death but he nods his head and I smirk darkly before changing my colors back. "Good."

I start out the door just as he asks, "Where are you going?"

My optics pierce right into him with my anger and frustration. "I'm going to see my Ruffians," I snap before exiting the room.

* * *

><p>"What a slag-head!" Skyquake shouts as he stands up from the couch. Heat, angry heat, was radiating off of him in potent waves that could smother me. "He doesn't have that right, does he?"<p>

I sadly nod my helm. "I'm afraid he does," I whisper, glancing at Dreadwing who had been deathly silent the whole visit. His optics were focused on something else to the side and I wanted him to say something, anything. I hated it when he got quiet like this; it scared me. "He's one of the highest authorities in the school. He could do anything he wanted to me but he won't. I have too much on him."

Skyquake sits down after a few minutes, subsiding from anger into a soft depression. "Does that mean you can't see us anymore?" he finally asks and I smile softly.

"Of course he can't."

I jerk around to look at Dreadwing in shock. My vocalizer won't work as he stares into my optics, determined. "No," is the only thing I can breathe out.

Dreadwing's optics falter for a second before the resolve is put back into place. "Ratchet, they would give anything to throw you out of that school," he speaks up with a grimace, as if it hurt to say the words. "You can't give them another professor the chance. You may have blackmail on one but that won't stop another from following you out here and finding you with us."

"Dreadwing, don't make me do this," I whisper, my spark slowly breaking. "He promised that he would stop any attempts!" The worst part? He was telling the truth, as blunt as it was. This wouldn't stop another professor or even the President of the school from finding another reason to kick me out. Finding me in the arms of two dance club bouncers would do just fine by them.

Skyquake glanced between the two of us but I knew he and his twin were conversing through their bond. "Ratchet," the blue twin reaches out to touch my servo, gently, always so gentle. "We're a couple of dance club bouncers...at one time we were Pit miners." He pulls me by my servo so that I was pressed against his chest. I could feel his pulsating spark so clearly and it hurt. "I don't want to do this anymore than you but...you're going to be such a great Medic and we'll just get in your way."

My servos clutch at his arms, trying to get rid of the pain that lanced through my spark as if someone were killing me slowly. I feel Skyquake press himself to my back and I am so suddenly surrounded by warmth that it soothes my dying spark just a bit. "He's right," the other twin concedes but I can hear the pain in his voice a little more clearly than his twin. "But that doesn't mean we don't care about you anymore."

"I know," I sob, helpless but warm in their arms. "I know."

* * *

><p>"Ratchet!"<p>

I jump out of my thoughts when a strong servo grabs my shoulder gently. For one desperate second, I hoped it was Dreadwing's until Optimus came into my line of sight. "Sorry, Optimus," I mutter, rubbing my faceplate with my servo. "I got lost there for a second."

The huge mech's face eases into that tender expression that melted me every time. "You've been distracted all day, old friend," he comments, taking a step back so that I can turn to face him fully. He was trying to get me to open up and communicate with him. I didn't usually get distracted but...today was different.

"I'm fine, it's just been a long, stressful day," I half-lie with a reassuring smile. Optimus knew I was lying but he nodded his helm and left me alone anyways.

I shake my head, not able to focus on anything on the screen anymore. When Skyquake had shown up, I figured that meant his brother was already dead; they never traveled without each other, usually. It had hurt but I slowly let the distant, long-forgotten burn subside until it was nothing but a bitter memory. Everything had been great until Dreadwing's sudden arrival.

Hearing of his arrival was...a stab in the spark. Even after all of these centuries...I still felt something for the both of them. Skyquake had obviously been insane upon arrival; something had driven him to leave his brother's side and had landed him here. I welcomed his death, a little, because he wasn't the same mech that I had cared for back on Cybertron. He used to be so full of life and humor but when I watched the recording from Optimus, it was obvious that he was gone. Now he was in the well of All-Sparks...in a better place.

His brother, on the other hand, was the exact same. He still had stable optics that hid everything or nothing depending on who he was looking at and the same fiercely loyal obedience to Megatron, sadly. Megatron had snared the twins very easily long before I had become a politician, which hurt to think that I might have been able to catch them had I agreed to Optimus' proposal earlier.

Sighing, I decided I needed some air.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<br>**

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this took so long! There should be one more part to this story but I really love this pairing for some reason! XD doesn't have Dreadwing in their character list though! D: That's sad! It's also sad that this is one of the only stories about Dreadwing and Skyquake! Sad day!

Anyways, I'm having a hard time deciding the next pairing! I was thinking about either the Lambo TwinsxRatchet (theme of the month? Twins!) or Eradicon/VehiconxRatchet! One's pretty common and the other is pretty much non-existent!

Thanks for all the feedback and I hope you enjoyed it! :D


	21. Side Job: Part Four

**Side Job**

Universe: (slight)AU Prime

Story Rating: MA+/R

Part Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual content; Depressing content.

Pairings: DreadwingxRatchetxSkyquake

Description:Ratchet, in search of a job to pay for medical school expenses, ends up at a Nightclub called Friction. He finds himself enthralled by the underground world of dancing and performing along with two of the bouncers.

* * *

><p>He looked so different.<p>

His body, once so beautiful and lithe, was now covered in bulky, overbearing armor. There were scars just on the surface and underneath that only I could see through his beautiful optics that were dim and smudged from mistreatment. The way he walked around the small valley, miles away from any civilization, I could see the hateful blows the war had taken at his body and spark. Optics, once full of life and hope, held only worry and stress now.

So much promise, so much potential, lost in a war that had no end in sight.

My spark clenches as he makes another turn, obviously deep in thought. I continued to hide behind the large canyon rocks that protected this valley, watching but never making a move closer. Seeing him brought back memories that hurt deep in my spark. My brother and I never forgot him...never forgot the feelings that no other mech or femme could place in our sparks again. Had we had just a little more time together, it would have blossomed into love, I was sure.

Thankfully, it had been stopped before it could slip into that stage.

I think that but...the more I watch him tear himself up internally...the more I want to go down and comfort him. The emotions still ran so deep and it helped to cover the aching hole Skyquake left. Did I want to go down and comfort him...or let him comfort me? Megatron thought I didn't care that my brother had died...thought that it didn't affect me and never bothered to ask. I was just a cold-sparked individual who could survive without my insanity driven brother to everyone in the Decepticon ranks.

Ratchet would understand; he would know just what to say.

Maybe that's what pushed me to reveal myself, maybe it was just the need to speak with him. We hadn't seen each other in...centuries. He wouldn't attack me and he knew I would never shoot at him unless provoked. His turn is sharp but he doesn't seem surprised to see me standing there, just on the other side of the valley. Blue optics take me in, slowly, running down my frame then up again, looking for something I can't name.

"Ratchet," I whisper, the name familiar but long-lost.

"Dreadwing," he responds, just as breathless.

We stand there for a long time, watching each other in shock. I was unsure now that I was here; should I just walk over and touch him or would he reject me? Fear was not something I was accustomed to but it was a sudden rush that kept me where I was.

Thankfully, Ratchet breaks the silence. "I thought you were dead," he whispers, faceplate twisting with a pain that ran just as deep as mine. I had known he wasn't dead through correspondence with Megatron but he didn't have the luxury. "You weren't with Skyquake..."

My spark clenches in pain. "He was driven insane a long time ago," I explain, the pain so terrible that it spread through my entire form.

Ratchet moves forward slowly, hesitant, until he reaches out to touch my shoulder with his servo. The contact was like fire that slipped through my form, burning the pain away. "I miss him too," he breathes, staring into my optics.

My servos grab his bulky hips to jerk him forward, pressing our bodies together. He releases air from his oral vent as my derma grow so tantalizingly close to his, just barely brushing. The touch of his metal against mine was my undoing and I could barely stand on my own as grief slashed through me. My form crumples against his but he doesn't let me go; his arms wrap around my body to pull me into his embrace so that we can slowly slip down to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"I'm here," I hear him soothe, stroking the back of my helm as I bury my faceplate in his shoulder. It was the first bit of weakness that I had been allowed to show to anyone since this war started and it was addictive. Ratchet did not judge me, he didn't see me as anything less as I took sweet comfort in his arms. Skyquake's spark going out had been the most painful experience I had ever been through and it still ached to feel that void there.

I pull Ratchet into my lap, letting my faceplate hide in his spark chamber. The pulsations were comforting...to know this mech was alive and well was addictive. Skyquake was usually the one to comfort me in the times when I just needed to be vulnerable but since he started working for Megatron...he changed. Instead of being wickedly intelligent and fierce, he became something insane and desperate for any fight. Megatron had corrupted my brother's spark until nothing was left but a processor-less drone that could think of nothing but energon-shed and violence.

For a few moments, I let myself get lost in the embrace of the mech in my lap. For just a second, I envisioned us back in our house on Cybertron and Skyquake was just out on an errand, not gone. I let myself ignore the aching hole in my spark that his death had caused and just enjoyed Ratchet's warmth, his soothing words. His fingers danced across my helm, washing away my pain with his scarred, aching servos that had seen more energon and death than anyone else in this war. I could see every death weighing on his soul, even Skyquake's. He was too emphatic to not feel every single life-force go out under his servos every time he woke up.

"All this armor," I whisper, touching the bulky pieces slowly. He didn't feel the same but the smell, the heat were very familiar.

He looks down at me with a sad smile, touching my face gently. "It's a war, Dreadwing, I have to be protected," he tells me without any humor even though he was laughing. I let my optics glance down his form, hidden behind so much protection. Somewhere, under all of that metal, was the sleek, sultry mech that I had fallen for. "You have your own armor too."

His fingers, delicate and uncovered, slipped across my shoulders and arms. It was amazing how such a small gesture could light me on fire just like old times. He may look different but his touch still did things to my body that no one else but my brother ever could. "I've always had armor," I chuckle, feeling the pain dissipate the further his fingers explored. "You're beautiful curves are covered by all of this...metal."

His smile had a little more life to it when his legs easily wrap around my waist, shifting to a more comfortable position. "I wouldn't wear it if I didn't have to," he shrugs, a little bit of that glint lighting his optics again.

Even with all of the armor, I couldn't help but find him beautiful. He still had some curves, they were just a little different and his faceplate was still the same even after so many years. My feelings, even after so many years, was still the same, no matter what he looked like. He could have a faceplate riddled with scars and I would still find him beautiful. "I missed you," I admit finally, watching the heat redden the mech's faceplate. He was older, more mature, but he was still easily embarrassed.

"I missed you too," he responds, pressing his forehead against mine slowly. Then, something changes. "But I can't be here with you."

I knew what he meant and I had to agree but it still hurt my spark. "I know but let's just stay a few minutes longer," I plead in my own way, tightening my grip on him. He tenses for a second before relaxing into the embrace, wrapping his arms around my neck and holding me firmly.

Silence is a welcome luxury, one that I don't often get to indulge in. I thought there would be so much to talk about, so much to tell him, but I found that the silence was much better. We could talk about depressing war stories later; instead, I could stay in his arms like this forever. I could rust and my spark go out but I would die happy. It was strange and no one would believe that I had a soft side because no one would see it except for Ratchet.

"I have to go," he whispers, hesitant.

He didn't pull away though and I needed just a few more seconds to get his scent, his feel back in my memory. This would tide me over until I could see him again. I lean back to stare into his optics before closing the space between our derma. His kiss was so familiar, like a long-lost delicacy from Cybertron, and he fell easily into our rhythm again. I kissed him not just for myself but for Skyquake too. When the war began, we would keep an eye out for the Medic on the battlefield and there were times when we would protect him. Megatron wasn't an idiot, he knew what was going on and had us punished for our traitorous actions. He separated us even though he understood the consequences; he drove Skyquake insane.

His servos were trembling when I pulled away, his faceplate flushed with emotion. "I-I have to go," he mumbles again, even more hesitant.

Standing, I easily set him on his pedes. "I know," I smile sadly, cupping his faceplate in my servos. "I'll see you again." It was a promise and he looked skeptical. With one last kiss, I pull away and transform to take off towards the Nemesis.

It didn't escape my attention that Laserbeak was just a few miles behind me.

All according to plan.

* * *

><p>Pain lances through my body as I skid across the floor of the main bridge. The singe on my armor stung but it could have been a lot worse; Megatron seemed to be pulling his punches by turning down the power of his cannon. Had it been on full blast, it would have punched a hole straight through me, easily. The pain would be worth it in the long run, I promised myself as I got to my pedes. Megatron was advancing on me slowly and I needed to be ready for the next hit. He wasn't going to kill me; he needed me.<p>

"For all your talk of loyalty, I find it hard to understand your reasoning in seeking out the Medic, again," he comments calmly. I could hear the dangerous, volatile anger just under the surface; I needed to handle this as carefully as I would a pack of scraplets. "I thought the first punishment would make things perfectly clear but I see that I was mistaken."

I stand my ground and pin the mech with a level gaze. "I request permission to explain my actions, sir," I finally speak up with a calm tone. Megatron had always had an unpredictable temper but since he had taken on dark energon, it had become something uncontrollable. Too bad he didn't see it like the rest of us did.

His optic ridge quirks and his dangerous gaze takes me in suspiciously. "This had better be worth my time, Dreadwing. I would hate to lose another First Lieutenant so quickly," he pauses in his advancement toward me. His bulky arms cross over his spark chamber, waiting.

My red gaze stays steady. "Ratchet and I have a past," I state the obvious for a moment. "We were casual lovers back on Cybertron and I wondered if I could get him to trust me again. I only did it for you, My Lord, and the cause."

He is silent for a long time before he uncrosses his arms. "It looked a little more than a casual relationship to me," he comments, obviously itching to use his cannon and end me.

"I was a different mech back then, My Lord," I explain, holding his steely gaze confidently. "It probably would have become more than casual had it gone any further. Ratchet is the one that holds the Autobot base together and Optimus has been persistent in asking me to change sides."

It suddenly clicks in the Decepticon's optics and a slow, ugly smirk crosses his derma. "I understand your goal but...next time make sure you communicate your plans to me," he commands with a dark look in his optics. I could see the gears turning, so to speak, and it all fell right into my plans. The commander turns and starts to exit the bridge, stopping by his Third who, like always, stood stoically in the shadows. "Keep a vigilant watch on him."

It was just loud enough for me to hear but I couldn't help the brief smirk at how well everything was falling right into place. I waited for a whole minute after the door closed before I turned to the silent mech standing in the darkness, watching me from behind his mask. "Phase One: Complete," he speaks out with the very rarely used vocalizer that even after all of this time I wasn't used to.

"Without a problem," I smirk, walking over to the tall, lanky mech. "Continue onto phase two."

"Affirmative."

* * *

><p>"I was worried you wouldn't show up," I chuckle as the Medic transforms into his bipedal form just a few feet away. His optics take me in with a wisdom that was born of age and pain.<p>

He places a servo on his hip, standing with an attitude that was foreign to me. There were some very obvious changes in his personality but the more I met with him, the more I was beginning to enjoy them just as much as when he was a student in medical school. "I tried to convince myself just that before I left," he states, crossing his arms over his spark chamber defiantly.

My derma quirk into a smirk, walking forward to physically unwrap his arms from across his chest. "Admit it," I whisper, throwing his arms over my shoulders and pulling his hips against mine. "You can't get enough of me."

His form grows tense but he eases his arms around my neck and allows me to run my servos down his hips. He felt so wonderful to have in my arms when all I got on a daily basis was grief and violence. "Yeah, whatever helps you recharge at night," he mutters, even as my servos slip down to squeeze his aft. "Dreadwing!"

I chuckle at his protest and futile struggles, keeping him pulled tightly against my body. "Ratchet," I drawl, kneading at his aft deliberately. "You can't tell me you don't feel something for me still."

His vents hitch and I can feel his interface panel heat against mine. My heat rocketed when he squirmed just a bit, rubbing our panels together. Still, he tried to pull away. "What happened to your loyalty for Megatron?" he questions, looking everywhere but my optics. "I can't help but think this might be a trap."

"It would be an effective trap…" I leer suggestively, grinding our panels together. I watch as he bites down on his lower derma to hold back a moan, feeling my spark throb with pleasure. "I could seduce you…" I run my derma across his jaw line all the way to his audio receptor. "I could frag you until you give me all of the information voluntarily…"

He jerks at my words but he knows full well that I'm joking. "No amount of interface could convince me to-ah!" he jolts as my glossa runs across his sensitive receptor spines.

I smirk against his receptor; his weaknesses hadn't changed. "Like that?" I breathe hotly against his neck cables. Pulling back, I stare down into his optics, taking in the lust and the need that were familiar yet in an older faceplate. He hadn't changed all that much after all.

"Shut up and kiss me already," he grumbles before pulling me down to do just that.

* * *

><p>His imposing warmth was a welcome sensation that overwhelmed me and stole the last bit of logic in my processor. Those derma, so familiar, took the breath right out of oral vent and his servos easily played my pleasure like a finely tuned instrument. My legs trembled even as he shoved me against one of the canyon walls so that I wouldn't fall over.<p>

My body shudders as his glossa runs down my neck and a talented servo massages my panel in easy strokes. "Open for me," he commands, nipping at my neck cables teasingly.

My panel snicks open without further prompting just before a finger is pressing into my lubricated valve. "A-Ah!" I gasp as his large digit teases a patch of sensors far within my core. My servos jerk out to grab his shoulders for support even as he is adding another finger to stretch my valve further.

His derma captures mine in a searing kiss that fries my processor easily. I yelp when his servo is gone and pulling me up so that my legs wrap around his waist. I'm not a light mech but it makes me even hotter to feel his strong servos pick me up so readily. He braces himself with one servo on the rock wall right next to my head and uses the other to guide my hip across his spike tip.

Pleasure, hot and overwhelming, courses through my body as he lowers me along his spike. "Dreadwing!" I moan, clenching his shoulders tightly as he bucks his hips up into mine to fully sheath his spike in my valve.

I pant as he presses his faceplate into my neck cables, thrusting slowly. My sensor net exploded with beautiful pleasure as I felt every inch of his long spike drag across my inner most nodes. "Primus, you're tight," he breathes against my neck, speeding up his thrusts.

My fans were whirling as my body heated, my charge building until my optics could barely stay online. It had been centuries since I had overloaded and my valve was more than willing to oblige. "Dreadwing," I whisper, desperately groping at his shoulders as my back gritted against the wall with his thrusts. "Please!"

"Ratchet!" he growls into my neck as my charge breaks and I overload. His thrusts are shallow but rock me further into a stronger, more explosive release until he finally follows.

* * *

><p>We stayed where we were, suspended in time, for just a few precious moments, enjoying our afterglow. It was pure perfection to stay in his arms and I enjoyed the feel of his warmth, his spark-beat as it wrapped around my form, intoxicating me. He gasps when I pull my spike away and we easily slip to the ground; his arms were still wrapped around my neck and he fit so nicely in my lap.<p>

"Things are about to change, Ratchet," I whisper into his audio receptor. It was quiet enough that the spying Laserbeak wouldn't overhear my words. He doesn't move from the spot but I feel the small amount of tension slip into his body.

"Why do I feel like this is good-bye?" he breathes out, sounding worried.

His concern made me smile. "Just trust me, okay?" I ask, pulling back to stare into his optics. He looks for something in my faceplate before nodding silently. "Good."

We seal the deal with one final kiss and I make sure he understands every ounce of my feelings in it. It wasn't a good-bye kiss, necessarily, but I wanted to make sure I had one last taste of the Medic before I finished my plan. This was just in case I didn't make it through my final phase and I needed him to know that I did this for him and for Skyquake: The only two mechs that had ever given a damn for me.

It was hard to separate myself from him and head back to The Nemesis. I could feel his optics on me as I flew away but I couldn't look back; if I did then it'd be my undoing. Primus only knew how this would all end and it was hard to think that I might not see him after this. The plan was flawless but I had to finish the deed, which was the hard part. It wasn't guaranteed that I would win; it wasn't certain that this would end the way I wanted it to...but, I had to do something. I was tired of being idle.

Soundwave was waiting for me when I transformed on the landing pad inside the Nemesis. "Everything ready?" I ask as Laserbeak swoops in to take his place on the stoic mech's spark chamber.

"Affirmative," he states in his reverberating monotone.

"Commence with the final Phase," I whisper, patting the tall mech on the shoulder lightly. "And, Soundwave, the objective is vital...let nothing stand in the way."

"Meaning: Understood," he confirms before I continue on my path. "Dreadwing." I hadn't expected him to say anything more so I turn to cast a curious glance to him. He had his faceplate looking my way but, as always, I couldn't see through his mask. "Good luck."

It was an uncharacteristic gesture that made me smirk with a confidence that I wasn't sure I had. "It'll work," I reassure the mech before starting for the main bridge. Just one pede in front of the other, focused on the task at hand. Even with all of my mental chanting, the screeching siren make my spark jolt. He was right on time, as always, and I was right at the door to the main bridge.

I entered just as the Overlord was trying to get into contact with Soundwave. "Soundwave, report!" he was shouting even though he could use his comm.-link silently. He was an intelligent mech, a master of strategy and war, but the ship was Soundwave's domain; without his Third's input, he was effectively crippled.

The door closed behind me with an almost inaudible click as it was locked by a wireless manual override. Thanks to Soundwave, Megatron and I were trapped in this room until one of us died or the ship crashed. "The ship is going down, Megatron," I speak up, catching the raging mech's attention. He jerks around to look at me, understanding dawning slowly in his corrupted optics. "It's just you and me."

A disgusting, ugly smirk crosses his derma confidently. "So Optimus succeeded in pulling my Second-in-Command out from underneath me after all?" he questions smugly.

"No," I state confidently. "This has nothing to do with the Autobots, Megatron."

His optics widen in shock. "You're trying to take over my position!" he roars, his cannon humming to life. It was a soft harmony to the sirens that were still going off as the ship's core was shut down.

"Wrong again," I glare, charging my own cannon as a warning. "I joined your cause for one reason and one reason only, Megatron: Equality. I believed in your boistrous cries for freedom and your speeches on taking over the government." My spark clenches as the ship jostles slightly. "It used to be about earning our freedom...now, now it's just about you taking out Optimus because of your damnable pride. Megatron, can't you see what this war has done to us? Look around yourself and see where you stand! We've had to seek out another sustainable planet to live on because we_ killed_ ours! Cybertron is dead because of our petty war!"

Megatron's snarl is dangerous even before the ship creaks mournfully. "You don't know anything about slavery and revolution, Dreadwing. You were a bouncer at a night club. I worked my servos to the struts in the mines and fought in the Pits until I had had enough! This is the closest we've ever been to freedom!" he shouts passionately but I had long since became immune to his preaching that meant nothing.

"No, your freedom has become exstinction, Megatron. How many more sparks are to be lost before we come to terms with the fact that this has killed us!" I reason with him even if it was hopeless. He was beyond reason, beyond sanity. His processor was gone; his compassion, love and enthusiasm was dead.

"You have lost sight of the goal, Dreadwing," he shakes his helm, giving me an almost sympathetic look. "I pity you but I do not envy where I am going to send you."

He rushes me and my battle systems hum to life just as the ship tilts dangerously, knocking us to the side. His first shot flies off wildly as I crouch down to grip onto the bridge, halting my fall. Raising my cannon I loose my own shot but he is already sliding further down the tilted ground and disappearing off the side. I follow him off the edge, landing just a few feet from him at the lower level where the loud shot of a cannon has me diving blindly to the side. The pain of a quick brush was easily handled but it didn't help me when the giant mech lunged for me.

Using the tilt of the ship as my momentum, I tossed the monster away from me. I smirked at the satisfying crack of him denting the far wall as I get to my pedes. I had to end him before the ship crashed or I was going to die with him. That was supposed to be my last resort but as the ship careened closer to Earth...it might be my only chance at ending all of this.

Even as I was making my move, Megatron's powerful voice filled the air. "All of this is pathetic, Dreadwing! You cannot defeat me!" he roars out as our bodies tumble in a fight that was now about pure brute strength. "Why fight when you cannot win!"

My knuckles give a satisfying twinge of pain as my fist collides with his faceplate. "Because," I start, taking another swing at the mech. My forearm blocks one of his own blows as energon splatters across the ground beside Megatron's head. "I owe it to those who did nothing to us! Skyquake and Ratchet were innocents in this!" I bash his faceplate in, watching as the hits deform him until he looks like his spark, ugly and disgusting. "They fought for what you believed and have only gotten hurt!"

The thought of my lovers solidified my rage as I took the next swing with my blade.

* * *

><p>"Optimus, you might want to come see this!" I shout as the computer goes haywire. The Nemesis was not only uncloaked but falling right out of the sky. The team formed around me in a tight circle just as a transmission came in. "It's from...Knockout?"<p>

"Patch him through," Optimus says confidently.

"Autobots, I'm so glad to be speaking with you," the sultry, sarcastic voice flits through the speakers much to the dismay of the team.

"Cut to the chase, Knockout!" Arcee snaps, crossing her arms over her spark chamber.

"Testy, testy," he tsks the femme before sighing. "Thanks to the combined work of our Second- and Third-in-Command, the Nemesis has been compromised with Megatron on it. Soundwave would be speaking to you right now but...well, you know."

My spark pounded as I watched the updates on how quickly the ship was sinking out of the air. "If Soundwave's with you...where's Dreadwing?" I ask, a icy sliver of fear slicing through my spark.

"Hm? Oh, our commanding officer is keeping our Lord busy," he comments as if it were completely normal.

"He's still on the ship?" I snap before setting some coordinates on the pad. "What the frag is he thinking?" My teammates exchange looks behind my back just as I activate the bridge. Uncharacteristic as it was, I transformed and hauled my tailpipe into the green light, coming out to a desolate desert much like that of Nevada only hotter and drier, if that was possible.

I transformed into my bipedal mode just as the air was rocked by a monsterous explosion coming from the core of the ship. "No!" I shout into the quiet desert, watching as another section exploded. The mountain surely took care of the rest as it collided and took my spark with it. My chest hurt as I witnessed the ship destroy the last half of the only spark I had truly loved. "No."

My energon ran cold even as I felt the strong, familiar servo of my Prime squeeze my shoulder, trying to comfort what couldn't be soothed away by anything but time. "Ratchet," I heard him whisper softly but I was beyond speaking. I wasn't sure I could think properly as a grief so strong took my spark until I was nothing more than pain.

"Don't! Just...don't," I grit out, transforming and driving. I didn't know where I was headed but I just let my tires take me away. I didn't want to feel the heat of that great fire or the icy slip of depression; I just needed the warmth of my lovers. How had things gone so wrong? Why hadn't he let me help him? Could I have done anything? Was this what we had been reduced to? Suicide missions that lost a good, decent spark for one that was twisted and deformed?

I don't think it was much of a coincidence that the crash was just a few mere miles away from Skyquake's grave site and that was where I ended up, staring at the small memorial I had set up. No one knew about it except for me and I'm sure Dreadwing had been here because there was a new gravemarker right beside the one I made. It had both of their names on it and I couldn't help the desperate scream that escaped my vocalizer.

"You idiot! You slagging idiot!" I shouted at the gravemarker knowing he had crashed the ship here on purpose. "We could have done this together! We could have succeeded together!" My spark implodes on itself and my shoulders slump with burden that was heavy. So heavy, everything was so heavy!

Clawing at my armor, I start to throw the pieces away from the hidden form beneath. I didn't want it. I didn't want the armor, the weight of it was crushing my spark. I wish I had some kind of outlet like humans; I wished I could cry, manifest my sorrow in the form of...something! Anything! All I could do was throw my armor in a fit of rage befitting a small sparkling and frag if it didn't feel good to stand in the open air in nothing but my protoform!

My armored helm was the last to go and I turned to throw it but don't.

Frozen, I stare in shock at the mech standing just a few short steps away. He was singed and his armor was covered in energon but he was there, smiling at me. One optic had been destroyed and I felt doubt slide to take the place of my pain. No, it couldn't be. He was dead. I had just watched him go down with The Nemesis; I had watched him go up in flames. My processor was playing nasty, cruel tricks on me and this was just a hallucination standing there.

"Frag, you're sexy when you're angry," he chuckles and it snaps something in me. I rush forward, dropping my helm without thought, and tackle the obviously wounded mech. He didn't seem to care as his arms wrapped around my waist, holding my smaller, leaner form against his, burying his faceplate in my neck cables.

"You idiot," I sob into his shoulder, clinging helplessly. I was glad no one else was there to see me breakdown but I knew I could with Dreadwing. "You slagging idiot."

"I know," he whispers and I can hear the pain in his vocalizer. "But I did it for you and for Skyquake. I just wish it had been sooner...maybe I could have saved-"

I cut him off with a kiss, stealing the words right out of his mouth. "Don't, you slag-head," I growl roughly, staring up into his optics-well, optic-with a glare. "He's happy. He's happy where he is."

His pain flashes through his optic but dims as I kiss him again. "I know," he breathes into the kiss, holding me tightly. "So am I."

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: So, I was originally planning to kill Dreadwing but I couldn't do it! D: I'm such a sucker for a happy ending! Besides, I love how this turned out in the end!

Thanks for all of the comments and feedback! :D I really enjoy hearing from everyone!

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><p><strong>Next Pairing<strong>

RatchetxEradicon/Vehicon

OR

RatchetxLambo Twins

(I haven't decided so I'll just start writing both and see where they take me! xD)


	22. Catching Fire

**Catching Fire**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: SunstreakerxRatchetxSideswipe

Rating: R/MA+

Warnings: Smut.

Description: Ratchet was happy to know that the team was alive but that was until he got stuck in the base with the terrible twins. Though, telling them to find something to do was probably his worst, or best, idea.

* * *

><p>"Ratchet, we're bored!" the yellow twin grumbles, leaning on the desk to my left as I work on something very important.<p>

"Yeah!" his cherry-red brother eloquently responds, on the other side of me, mirroring his twin.

Two days ago, I had been ecstatic to see the team, including the twins, alive and well. Two days ago, I wasn't forced to watch over the base with the twins as my guards either. They were fine when they weren't bugging the sanity from my processor. I told Prowl they needed to be out on the road more than inside but he insisted that they do some in-base duty as well.

Coming from the mech that is almost never in the base for more than two hours at a time, that was cheap. He didn't have to deal with them when they were in the base; I did. I stayed in the base more than any other Autobot so that meant they were free to bug me.

"Than go find something to do!" I snap at the two as they continue to hover over my work.

"There's nothing to do!" Sideswipe, the red twin, complains loudly.

They were like sparklings, both of them. "Go play on the internet or something," I command, pointing at the both of them in turn with the tool in my servo. It was a warning and they knew it. "Find something to do! Stop bothering me!"

I sigh in relief when they both disappear, missing the secretive smirks on their face as they walked out of my Med-bay. Thank Primus, peace and quiet was a rare commodity now that the new team had shown up. Prowl was a solitary mech so he didn't say much and kept himself preoccupied; Jazz, our saboteur, was outgoing with a personality that never ceased to entertain others; and Hotrod, the youngest of us all, was good friends with Bumblebee so they were constantly together. That just left the twins and I hated dealing with them. If they weren't bugging me then they were pulling their terrible pranks.

My helm jerks up in realization.

"Slag," I mutter, setting down my tools to exit the Med-bay. They were probably up to no good and it was way too quiet in the base. "Sunstreaker? Sideswipe?"

Silence.

That was scarier than any scream when it came to the twins. I went down the corridor towards their shared berthroom, seriously worried when they didn't respond to my calls. How much trouble could they truly have gotten into within the span of twenty minutes?

"Sunny? Sides?" I ask as I walk up to their door, pressing close to listen for any sign of distress.

Silence for a second then…a sound.

I pressed closer until my audio receptor was against the door and heard the distinct yelp. Worried, I used my emergency code to override their door and rushed forward when it opened. "Are you-" my optics widened in shock.

Sunstreaker had his brother bent over their berth and at first I thought they might be fighting because the yellow mech had his brother's arm pulled up behind his back. I almost pushed myself into motion until two sets of optics landed on me and I saw that they weren't fighting. Sunstreaker was fragging his brother into the berth.

Embarrassed, I quickly exit the room. My faceplace burning as I rushed to the main area of the base then to the sanctuary of my Med-bay. I felt like such a creepy old model; I should have known they would be doing something like that, after all, I did tell them to find something to do. Glitch, I was a slaggin' glitch!

Sighing, I tried to ignore the throbbing in my interface array. It was disconcerting that I should be turned on by their display. I hadn't thought about interface in…a very long time. They were attractive young mechs, I was fully aware of this, and I wasn't old enough for my interface array to shut down yet so the response was normal.

It was still alarming.

Great, now I was distracted from my work by the insistent throbbing in my array. I knew bringing the twins here was a bad idea but I figured it would be because of pranks not…this. I was fine until they came around and ruined my perfect calm; interface was a luxury, not a necessity. Yeah, try telling that to my aching array.

I jump as I feel two servos trailing up my sides. "Ratchet," a smooth as high-grade voice rasps into my audio receptor softly. My spinal struts tense harshly as his fingers slip into the seams of my hip-joints. The gasp hardly gets out before I feel his interface panel, burning hot, pressing against my aft. "Come with me."

"No," I deny automatically, hearing him chuckle.

"Ratchet," he smirks against my neck cables. "You can't say that you're not hot and bothered." His servo runs down to graze my sensitized panel. My vents hitched in response, embarrassing the Pit out of me; Sunstreaker only let his glossa dig into my neck cables to find a sensitive sensor array. "Come on."

He pulls away, grabbing my arm to take me with him. "Sunstreaker," I sigh, hoping for frustration but getting a breathy kind of moan instead. He completely ignores me and drags me through the hallways until we reach their berthroom door.

"He's waiting for you," Sunstreaker whispers into my audio receptor before unlocking the door.

It slipped open and my oral vent went dry. Sideswipe was lying on the berth with his wrists pulled above his helm in stasis cuffs. His panel was open, showing his red and white ribbed spike, pressurized and twitching in the air; though I couldn't see his valve because of his closed legs, I could smell the lubricant in the air. "Oh frag," I mutter, my panel alerting me that it was ready.

Sunstreaker urged me forward so that he could close the door before going over to his brother. "Come here, Ratchet," the yellow twin whispers, stroking his brother's aching spike to draw a sultry moan from the red Lamborghini. "We're completely willing if you are."

I feel something snap and I found that it was my resolve as a smirk crosses my faceplate slowly. "So he just likes to be tied up then?" I ask, feeling an old confidence soak through my body, fueling my arousal.

I could see the surprise in their optics as I walk forward, climbing up onto the end of the berth to advance on Sideswipe. "Yes," the red mech nearly whimpers without shame. His legs spread for me as I situate myself between them, staring down at the beautiful curves of the sleek mech. They were front-liners, yes, but they were also very slender for speed. Their forms reminded me a lot of Wheeljack's.

"Good," I smirk before pressing my derma to his.

The tension and frustration I had been feeling for nearly a century alleviated in a second. Why hadn't I done this sooner? I had long forgotten the intoxicating feel of kissing someone, feeling their seams, and dipping into a valve, slick from arousal. Not like I had much choice here in berth partners either.

He bucked wildly into my panel as my glossa invaded his oral vent, moaning desperately. It didn't surprised me when Sunstreaker's servos started to run across my back, taking my med-pack away quickly. I shudder as his derma play down my neck cables, his fingers digging into sensitive seams to tease me. This was the first time I had ever had more than one mech in a berth at one time and I was starting to regret that fact.

"Please, Ratchet," Sideswipes begs desperately. "I need your spike!"

I let my panel slide open, releasing my spike from its confines. Grabbing hold of the red mech's hip, I thrust my spike home with one motion. He arches against his restraints with a loud cry of pleasure, spreading his legs wider for me. His velvety vale rippled against my spike and I gasped in pleasure as a finger pressed into my own valve from behind.

"Slag, Ratch, you're tight," he hums into my receptor as I thrust into his brother again. "How long has it been since you were fragged?"

A ripple of pleasure runs down my spinal struts as he slams his finger into me in time with my motions. It was an incredible feeling and it pushed me to push harder into the red twin. Another finger only increased my need until I had to hide my sounds in Sideswipe's neck cables. "Too long," I mutter against the red twin's neck softly.

My energon runs hot as I feel the fingers disappear and the wide tip of the mech's spike press against my rim. "I'm not going to go slow," he warns just before he gives a powerful thrust. The stretch was intense and I gasped as he gave another sharp push before he was fully seated in my valve. "Primus, too long is right," he moans in awe.

I lean over the red twin just as he catches my derma in a passionate kiss dissolving the last bit of pain from my stretched valve. We start a common rhythm that starts with Sunstreaker pulling out of me and me doing the same then following the thrusts. It was an amazing sensation to penetrate while being penetrated and I found myself building in my overload a little sooner than normal.

Our noises grew louder and more insistent until I felt the charge sparking across the inside of Sideswipe's valve. "Ratchet!" he screams out as his valve clenches down on my spike like a vise. It was enough to send me over the edge and I gasped as my overload broke across my metal frame.

Sunstreaker continued to thrust a few times before he too surrendered to his overload. The feel of his hot transfluid washing across my sensitized nodes only strengthened my overload until I collapsed to the side, exhausted. Sunny followed suit and I found myself cuddled between the twins like a Primus forsaken pillow.

It was comfortable, though, so I allowed it to slide.

* * *

><p>"How did everything go today?" Optimus asks the twins off the side. He knew I could hear their conversation and that was the point.<p>

"It was fun here at the base! Can we do base-duty more often?" Sideswipe asks with his arms crossed over his spark chamber.

Optimus' expression of shock was rather entertaining but he smiled slowly. "It's good to know that you two are getting alone with Ratchet. As long as it's fine by him then I will put you on more base-duty," the oblivious Prime states.

"It's fine by me, Prime," I call out from across the room. I look up with a smirk on my faceplate. "Besides, they were a great help today. I could use more help around the base."

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh the horny twins seducing the old Medic! xD

Thanks for all of the feedback! I had more people want TwinsxRatchet so I did that one first! Don't worry I plan on doing the other one next! ;D

Oh and thanks to Master of Grey for all of your wonderful ideas! I hadn't even thought about RatchetxUnicron but now that you brought it up...I might have a forming idea! ;D I have a plan for Starscream and Ratchet but I'm kind of holding off on it for now! Arcee and Ratchet are going to be really hard for me! xD I love Arcee and I love Ratchet but it's going to need to be a great plot before I put them together! (Still waiting for my muse to beat me with that pairing!) But thanks! I have great new ideas now! :D

Thanks to everyone else who has reviewed! I love your input and it brightens my day to see your thoughts! :D

* * *

><p><strong><span>Next Pairing<span>**

RatchetxVehicon/Eradicon


	23. Bleed Like Me: Part One

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrone

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: R/MA

Warnings: Violence; hint of sexual content

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p><em>"Hey baby can you bleed like me?<em>  
><em>C'mon baby can you bleed like me?<em>

_You should see my scars."_

~ Garbage _Bleed Like Me_

* * *

><p>He showed up without any warning.<p>

It wasn't as if any of us had expected such respect but this was a little more important than a scouting mission in extreme temperatures. It was different when an Autobot changed sides but more than that, he was put into a room among us lowly drones. Shouldn't he be with the other generals? Closer to the Med-bay, I would suppose but no one listened to a drone.

His blue optics took in everything around him but there was an air of silent dignity about him. He didn't pretend that we didn't exist; he actually acknowledged our presence by nod or gaze. It was odd to see someone who was once so high up not just notice us but _see_ us. Maybe I was just being an idiot again.

I watched from my usual table in the mess hall with the other Eradicons from my team, as the mech sipped at his energon a couple tables away. He was alone, as usual, reading the datapad in front of him while sipping his energon. He stood out with his red and white paintjob and blue optics in a sea of purple, black and red. I could see his old sigil still gleaming on his chest but I knew it would be gone as soon as Knockout got a hold of the other Medic.

He had been quiet for the most part since he had been assigned a room not too far from mine. He, at least, had a small room to himself; the rest of us roomed with our teams. My team was five other Eradicons so the space got a little sparse, truth be told. The Lord at least had enough decency to give the Medic his own quarters.

I sipped my energon, completely oblivious to the conversation around me. Would he be helping Knockout in the Med-bay or was he just going to be doing menial work like us? I couldn't imagine the bulky, intelligent Medic doing anything but working on injured mechs. He was far too intelligent for the work we did, I knew that much at least.

Then again, I didn't know much about the mech. For all I knew, he could be just as wicked as the other Generals around this place. Just because he looked you in the optic didn't make him a good mech; it just made him bold.

"Hey, 765, check it out," my teammate elbows me roughly. I jerk my mask up to him but follow his pointing finger until I go right back to where I had been looking previously. Someone was walking up to Ratchet and it looked like a Miner-drone. "Is that 901?"

I squint my optics but shrug after a second. "Hard to tell," I say, watching the two just like the rest of the hall. Then, I saw the lightly sparking wire in the mech's arm. "Yeah, that _is _901! He got injured in the last energon mining accident; I can see the scratch."

They spoke for a few moments, 901, already a shy mech, flustered and twitchy as he asked for something. "He's not asking what I think he is…is he?" my buddy asks, his tone that of shocked awe.

The Medic listens to the young miner fluster through an explanation before downing the last bit of his energon and gesturing to the seat beside him. 901 seemed surprised before finally sitting down. The whole hall was silent as we watched the Autobot Medic repair the young mech right there. His tools were apart of his body so it was easy for him but…I never thought I'd see the day where he would willingly help us.

He worked fast, that was for sure, and it wasn't long before 901 was good as new with only a welding scar left. We were all stunned even as he stood where he was, patting the miner on the shoulder before turning to the whole hall. "Anyone else?" he asks in a voice that is rough but soothing all at the same time.

Needless to say, he had a lot of volunteers and I watched as nearly half of the hall went to him. He didn't say anything except for a sharp command to stand in a line, which everyone did very quickly, and started his repairs. It was amazing to watch him work on the mechs even from my distance and our Captain had to push several of the team to swallow their prides. I, thankfully, had yet to get a minor injury that I couldn't fix on my own but there were several in my team that were on their last bit of strength trying to ignore the pain they were in.

I couldn't help the smile that crept over my faceplate at the Medic. He was rough around the edges, I could hear him shouting at those in the line to stop fidgeting before he went back to the mech he was working on. "He's going to get into trouble if Megatron finds out," my friend mutters under his breath even after just getting back from his own repair.

"Yeah, probably, but you still went, 811," I comment, still staring at the Medic as he fixed one of my teammate's bum leg. How long had he had that injury? The days and battles just seemed to blur together after so long on this planet.

He shrugs and I can practically see the devilish smirk on his faceplate under that mask when he says, "Best to get repaired before he's killed, huh?"

I frown deeply. "That's not funny," I mutter, earning a playful shove.

"Don't be so serious, 765!" he chuckles before our Captain, 091, comes over with a datapad in his servo.

It was time for us to be assigned to our daily jobs. "765, you've got main bridge duty," 091 says with barely a hesitation.

I wince, suddenly thankful for my mask. Main bridge duty was probably the easiest job but it was also very dangerous. Megatron was known for killing bystanders like myself without hesitation when he became angry. I had never been hit while on bridge duty but I had known plenty of times when I would lose a teammate for something as silly as one of Megatron's temper tantrums.

I had no choice though, and went to my assigned post without a word. The only mech there was Soundwave, thankfully, and I tried not to heave a small sigh of relief. Soundwave was not known for his violence, actually, the only things he was known for were his intelligence, silence and occasionally putting over confident Generals in their place. He didn't punish anyone unless Megatron was absent or he was otherwise ordered to do so.

Of course, the silence didn't last long before Megatron entered the room and I stood a little straighter. I tried to look inconspicuous as he stomped over to Soundwave who slowly turned without worry. Soundwave was Megatron's most loyal follower, had been since before the war, or at least that was the rumor. Maybe that's why it was such a big surprise when the Warlord growled angrily at the silent mech.

"Would you like to explain to me, Soundwave, why I wasn't told of the issue with our new…guest?" the livid Overlord snaps at his Third-in-Command viciously.

Again, I was thankful for my mask to hide my shocked expression. Ratchet was in trouble but not because the communication's commander had ratted him out, strange. Soundwave wasn't a brutal mech but I figured he would tell Megatron that the Medic was repairing us as soon as he knew, which was automatically.

"That wasn't your call to make!" he whispers harshly even though Soundwave had made no verbal response. "Get him here, now!"

I winced at the severe tone even before the door slid open to allow Ratchet and Knockout into the main bridge. "You wanted to see me, Lord Megatron?" the red and white Autobot asks, stepping forward with a confidence that not many had in front of the mad-mech.

A disgusting, terrible smirk crossed the Lord's faceplate just before his fist came down on the Medic's cheek. Unconsciously, I moved forward until a long, familiar servo places itself on my chest. Soundwave was watching me from behind his mask and shook his helm just slightly as a silent warning. I would have thought that it was because of his loyalty to Megatron but now that I knew he hadn't reported the Medic for his faux pa…I wasn't so sure.

So, I stood and watched as the Medic, the only mech on this entire ship that had shown us drones any kindness, got beaten down. I could do nothing, I knew that, and if I tried then I would surely make things worse. It was probably the most painful thing to watch as energon splattered across the ground from another blow to the mech's faceplate. I winced but Ratchet never made a sound; he was stronger than any other Medic I had ever met. Knockout would be on his knees begging for mercy by then but not Ratchet; he looked Megatron in the optics and took his beating.

When it seemed that Megatron was going to beat the Medic to death, he backed away. It was a terrible mess with glowing energon seeping from the mech who could barely get off of the ground anymore. He tried, I'll give him that, but he was exhausted and gave up ten minutes into the beating. I think it placated Megatron to see the mech surrender or maybe Soundwave had something to do with it but he stopped.

"I suggest you never do anything like that again, Medic," the Lord spits at the downed mech before chuckling. It was a dark sound, something that sent chills down my spinal struts. "You!" I jumped involuntarily when Megatron turns on me and I think that I might be next. "Get him out of my sight!"

"Yes sir!" I salute before moving over to the Medic. Slipping my arm under the mech, I heft the bulky body off the floor and out of the room. Primus help him, but he tried to walk with me even though I knew he was in a lot of pain. "Just relax, sir, you're almost there."

He spits some of the energon that had collected in his oral vent out on the ground. "Ratchet's fine," he mutters in that gruff, raspy voice. "Never been a sir in my life."

I can't help but chuckle. "You were this morning, sir-Ratchet," I smile from behind my mask, pulling him a little further against my body. He was nearly useless and I was halfway to his room when 811 walked towards us.

"Primus above, Megatron did this?" the mech asks just as he goes to the other side and lifts Ratchet off the ground.

"Yeah, he's got one Pit of a left hook," Ratchet mumbles with dark humor that has 811 laughing hesitantly.

We drag him through the hallway, catching the attention of several other drones, including 901. He looked utterly distraught and followed after us, ignoring his duty long enough to help us get the mech into his room and on his berth. "This is all my fault," the miner mutters in his soft, meek voice.

Ratchet winces as I take a rag to one of the cuts on his faceplate. "Shut up, kid, it wasn't your fault," he says firmly even as I am cleaning up the energon.

"But…had it not been for me asking-"

"I said shut up!" Ratchet snaps though it's weak. "You needed repairs, Primus, half the lot of you needed them! This happened because I disobeyed direct orders."

901 seemed to be comforted by the mech's forceful, firm words and I decided it was time for them to leave. "He needs rest," I say calmly, ushering the two out of the room. 901 is hesitant and I give his shoulder a pat. "You can come see him once you're done with your work, 901."

"Alright," he whispers before exiting the room, leaving me alone with the Medic.

I go back to cleaning the energon from the wheezing mech, wincing at the cuts and dents from the beating. "What's your designation, kid?" he asks two energon-soaked rags later.

My optics widen behind my mask. "EC-765," I answer softly.

"Primus, you guys don't even have real designations?" he mutters more to himself than to me. He is silent for a few moments before he sighs. "I can't call you a number, kid. Anything else you want to be called?"

My faceplate heats up in flattery. He wanted to give me a name, a real name? I am so shocked that I stutter. "A-Ah, I haven't really thought about it!"

Ratchet stares up at the ceiling for a moment before he looks back at me. "Take your mask off for me," he comments randomly, making me twitch. "I know you have a faceplate under there and I want to see it before we decide on a name."

Hesitant, I reach up to slowly remove the mask. His optics widen in a blatant show of shock and I can't help but hunch in self-consciousness. "Pit," he breathes softly. "You're not half bad to look at!" I feel my energon run hot at the compliment, never having been told something like that by a higher-up.

"Thank you," I mutter, setting my mask to the side. It wasn't often that I walked around without my mask but I figured Ratchet wouldn't take advantage of my vulnerability; Pit, he couldn't even get up from the berth at the moment.

"Dante," he finally decides with a firm tone.

My faceplate heats again but it's not because of embarrassment this time. "I like that name…it's human, correct?" I ask, curious.

His blue optics turn to catch mine, reflecting his surprise. "Yes."

"One of my favorite human authors is named Dante," I admit with no small amount of hesitation. What would he think of me reading human literature? It wasn't normal for a drone to read, I knew this; we were better off just being processor-less warriors.

"_Dante's Inferno?_" he asks with a small smile on his derma. My spark clenches in an unreal amount of pleasure that he not only knew what I was referring to but had read it. "You have good taste."

As much as I wanted to talk about literature with him, I felt that I had dallied too long. "I get back to my post but…" I start as I hesitate to put my mask back on.

Ratchet waves his servo dismissively but it wasn't a condescending type of wave, more friendly. "Go," he chuckles. "Only one of us needs to get slugged today."

"I'll come by after shift," I blurt out before rushing out of the room, embarrassed by my interest. He was an Autobot, well, had been, and he disobeyed Megatron…to repair us. There were so many contradictions that I couldn't help but vent a heavy sigh; he was a good mech, what else mattered?

* * *

><p>Shift couldn't go by fast enough.<p>

I wanted to get to the mess hall first to get the Medic some energon before everyone else. Seeing him beat up had been…hard, really hard. He told me it wasn't my fault but I couldn't help but feel a little responsible for it. Megatron wasn't a merciful mech and it showed through spilt energon on the old model's whole body. He couldn't even walk himself to his room so EC-765 and EC-811 had to do it for him.

Pausing to stretch out my spinal struts, I look down at the cave wall that I had been carving into for the past few hours. Ratchet hadn't done anything wrong, necessarily, just fixed my aching arm and numerous other drones. Shouldn't Megatron be thankful? I could work more efficiently without that torn wire that made my reaction time slower and I was seeing a more cheerful atmosphere in the miners since Ratchet's act of kindness.

I jumped when the siren went off to signal the end of the shift. My pedes were quick as I cleaned up my area and rushed through the ground bridge toward the mess hall. I was nearly the first one into the hall where the line was barely two mechs long. My vents heaved a little in my exertion as I came up to the mech giving out the energon.

"Slow down, 901, you'll get your turn," VC-303 comments with his deep, smooth as oil voicalizer. He was a rather serious mech with plenty of battle scars but still sympathetic and kind nonetheless.

Leaning forward, he hesitates from pulling away; he was a huge stickler for personal space. "I need a cube for Ratchet," I whisper softly and his mask tilts slightly. I could see his derma working even with his mask on and I could hear the gears turning. Ratchet had helped him with his one good optic this morning.

He looks around then slips me a covered cube so that I can hide it in my subspace. "He okay?" 303 asks, hiding his worry behind casual curiosity.

I shake my helm. "Megatron beat him real bad," I whisper even as EC-091 comes up beside me.

"It was a direct contravene of the rules," the Captain states with his rough, gravel-like voice. I had always wondered why it was so grating and the rumor was that it had been damaged in battle. He was a very strict mech with ramrod straight posture and wings at the perfect angle. It was annoying at times but his strict adherence to the rules had saved several mechs before. He was a good leader and was one of the only mechs left from the double digits.

Even with the respect I held for him, I still glared at him through my mask. "Yes, but he helped several of your team, Captain," I point out as politely as possible.

He nods his helm slightly. "I didn't say I agreed with the punishment," he comments before starting away with his cube. He hesitates only a second. "Give him my regards."

"Woah," I mutter, shocked. It wasn't everyday that 091 showed empathy. "Weird."

303 shrugs. "You'd best get going before one of the Generals make their round," he recommends, pulling me back to reality.

"Yeah, thanks, 303," I smile before heading for the exit.

Ratchet's room wasn't too far away from the mess hall, none of our rooms were, and I softly knocked. I hear a voice beckon me in but it isn't the Medic's and I open the door to find EC-765 and EC-811 already in the small room. "I figured you wouldn't be far behind," Ratchet chuckles, looking up at me with his marred faceplate. Pain lances through my spark and I'm glad the reaction is hidden behind my mask.

I flush lightly when I notice that both 765 and 811 have their masks off and set to the side. 765 had a very standard faceplate but it was smooth with sharp cheek ridges; his optics were slanted a little further up than most. He was attractive, don't get me wrong, but he wasn't absolutely outstanding. 811, on the other hand, always seemed to have that goofy smile on his derma, which made him attractive; his denta were very white and he had an extra triangle of metal at the bottom of his chin that gave him a bit more personality.

"I-I brought you some energon, sir," I whisper, walking closer.

"Call me Ratchet," he chuckles and I get the feeling it wasn't the first time he had said this. He gestures for me to come closer. "Dante, help me sit up."

Dante?

Confused, I watch 765 respond and move forward to help the mech sit up against the wall. "Take off that mask," Ratchet nearly commands once he is sitting up and comfortable. "I hate not being able to see your faces."

Handing over the cube, I hesitate in lifting my servo to my mask. 765 and 811 were so attractive and I was so…ordinary. He waited patiently for me to unlatch the locks, setting the mask slowly to the side. He let his optics run across every inch of my faceplate, surely taking in the too-wide optics and the double ridges that run under them and down next to my derma. My optic ridges were too wide and I was one of the only mechs on the ship that had a line running across my faceplate that went through my optics.

"Sit down, you're making me nervous," Ratchet finally says, patting the berth next to him. 765 and 811 were sitting in some chairs, Primus only knew where they found them, so I slowly took the seat next to Ratchet, sitting far enough to give him some space. "Why don't the two of you go and get your own energon, I know you're running low."

I watch the two of them exchange looks. They were both on the same team and good friends but they seemed wary of me for a moment. "I can watch him until you come back," I offer, lowering my optics slightly. As warriors, they probably spent more energon in a day than I did anyways.

"Alright, we'll be back before you miss us," 811 says with that goofy smile of his before the two walk out of the room.

Left alone with the Medic, I didn't know what to say. Should I ask him how he was doing even though he looked like the Pit? Should I thank him…again? "Sermin," he speaks up before I can. I look at him, confused. "I've already given the other two names, figured you needed one too."

"Sermin," I say, rolling it over my vocalizer for a second. I searched the internet and found that it was Turkish for 'shy', fitting. "I like it…thank you, Ratchet, no one's ever taken the time to name me."

He snorts in derision. "No one takes any time for you," he mutters, frustrated but not towards me. "You deserve to be more than just a number."

My spark flutters strangely at his words. No one had ever said anything like that, especially not someone like Ratchet. Most of the Generals overlooked us until they needed a punching bag or a convenient interface. It was a sad existence, we all knew this, but it was the one we were created for. "No we don't," I whisper, bringing my legs up against my spark chamber and wrapping my arms around them. "We were manufactured for numbers, not for names."

Ratchet's empty cube was sat gently to the side just before he turned to look at me closely. "Open up your spark chamber," he states firmly and I fluster. "Go on, I won't touch it."

I flush brightly but do as I was told, like always, and let him see my blue spark. It pulsated warmly but I was terrified as his optics looked over it leisurely before he gestures for me to close it. "You have a spark, Sermin," he comments before he opens up his own spark chamber for me and I am briefly blinded by the brilliant light of his soul. "And so do I. Why do I deserve a name when you don't?"

He closed his chamber just as the door opened again as the two mechs came in with their rations. "You decide a name for our little Miner?" 811-Puck asks as he walks over to take his previous seat.

"Sermin," I offer up, taking out my own cube of energon to sip at.

Dante gives a small, rare smile. "It's nice."

"EC-091 sends his regards, by the way," I say after a few moments of silence.

Puck nearly spews his energon in shock. "Captain? You mean, our Captain? Mr. I-have-the-scariest-vocalizer-in-the-universe? That Captain?" he nearly shouts, earning a sharp shove from Dante.

I can't help but chuckle at the response. Puck always had been the goofy one and he balanced out Dante really well. "Ratchet did help half of his team," I point out to the mech. "Including you."

"I'll have to meet this Captain sometime," Ratchet laughs, trying to hide the wince at the movement. It hurt to see his pain but there was nothing we could do. None of us were very good at repairs and his were pretty bad; it was too bad drones weren't allowed to take some classes in field repair. "I think I might have someone that could beat his vocalizer though."

I smile at the fond look on the Medic's face. "Who was he?" I ask, curiosity winning over my discretion.

He glances at me from one side, having to turn his helm because of a dent in the side of his faceplate. "He was our weapon's specialist, Ironhide," he explains, getting a glossy look in his optics. He was running through his memories and some of them weren't good.

"Woah, you were friends with _the _Ironhide?" Puck nearly squeaks in shock. "I've heard horror stories about that warrior! I heard he was as tall as Megatron and twice his width!" He holds his servos out in exaggeration but the look of wonder never left his optics as he settled back down.

Ratchet can't help but laugh. "No, he wasn't that big but he was a tough glitch, that was for sure!" he smiles softly.

I scoot a little closer to the Medic, curious as he goes into a war story about the mech. Puck was like a sparkling as he listened to the mech tell about his, surely, best friend. Ratchet spoke so fondly of him that he either had to be a friend or lover. They had actually known each other _before_ the war which was a hard concept to wrap my processor around. Most of us, except for the double digit warriors, had been created during the war so we had known nothing else. Ratchet had actually lived a life where he didn't have to worry about the next source of energon or the threat of a battle.

* * *

><p>After mess hall duty, I found myself walking towards the room where several voices were soaking through the metal door. I figured 901 would be here but I wasn't sure who the others were. Maybe I should just leave. He had plenty of people to help him, after all. It didn't do any good to stand outside of his door like a glitch though and I had come here for a specific reason.<p>

"Come in, already!" I jump as the Medic bellows loud enough to rattle the door.

Embarrassed, I invite myself in to find 901, 765 and 811 sitting around with the Medic. "Sorry to disturb you," I say with a slight bow, trying to be polite. I was used to being around other Vehicons so it was odd to be near the two Eradicons and the Miner. Sure, I knew them but we were acquaintances, at best.

"Might as well make it a crowd," Ratchet gestures for me to take the seat next to him on the berth. "I fixed your optic this morning, correct?"

"Yes, thank you for that," I say noticing that I was the only one with a mask still on. Standing at the door, I clasp my servos behind my back. "I won't be long. I came to offer my assistance to repay you for your services earlier."

He waves his servo in a leisurely kind of way. "I didn't do it for payment…Gene," he states casually. "What do you think, Sermin? Good for him?"

"I like it," the shy little Miner comments with a smile. He was awfully close to the Medic and way too relaxed; it was unusual for the mech.

"Excuse me?" is all I can find the coherency to ask.

811 laughs brightly. "He's giving us all names, Gene! Mine's Puck and 765, here, is Dante! They're way better than numbers," he fills in the gaps and I feel my spark throb painfully.

"Names," I say skeptically but Ratchet doesn't even falter. "Now I must repay you, Sir-"

"If you say sir, I'll throw something," he interrupts and I can't help the small smile. He was brash and bold but he had some bolts going against Megatron's wishes. He had obviously taken the beating for it too.

"Let me escort you to the wash racks," I finally state.

Puck gave a low whistle of appreciation. "Scrap, Doc, I don't think Gene's ever propositioned anyone before!" he teases and I feel my faceplate heat exponentially.

"I figured he could use the help from me instead of letting a lecher like you touch him," I comment, earning a laugh from the others. I enjoyed my solitude and space but I owed this mech a debt that I was sure I'd never be able to pay off. He had fixed my only working optic; if not for him, I would probably go completely blind and we just didn't have the parts to replace them. I would probably be killed for parts if I became an invalid; Ratchet had saved me from that fate. I was eternally grateful.

Ratchet watches me for a few moments before shrugging. "I could use a good washing," he decides, scooting closer to the edge of the berth. Instantly, there are four sets of servos helping him to his pedes. Puck and myself wrap the Medic's arms around our shoulders and hoist him up while the other two go to open the door for us. "An old model could get used to this."

I can't help the chuckle that escapes my derma as we haul the heavy Medic towards the wash racks. It was sure to be pretty full at this time but we were used to washing in large groups. We did everything together, truthfully. The Generals may not realize it but we were pretty much a community in and of ourselves that was close-knit and very tight. Ratchet was an outsider until he offered us something valuable; in return, we would allow him into our ranks.

The door opened to release some of the steam that was trapped in the room and the constant chatter died away when everyone spotted us. It took mere seconds for someone to grab a stool for the Medic and another to bring the small group the tools we would need for a good scrub and buff. "Definitely could get used to this," he smiles in thanks as we lower him down to the stool.

I had expected to wash him on my own, which was unnerving as it was, but the others quickly grabbed cleaning clothes and we each took part. My servos were steady as I started on his right side at his shoulder. Puck was at the left side and the other two had taken up the mech's lower half, staring at the foundation. He let us pamper him as others came over to offer their help, which was quickly but politely declined.

It was easy to distract myself with the task and Ratchet easily leaned back into the touch. He seemed interested in what was going on around him as well and looked at the large room. It was an open space with spouts coming from the walls; there weren't any dividers just a room full of washing mechs. Most had their masks off and I decided I could do without mine as well.

Ratchet had already seen my faceplate this morning so he wasn't surprised to see the white, useless optic cover that I had in my left socket. He had already seen the double lines that went down from my optics and derma. He hadn't shown any disgust this morning when he got his first look at my face but I wouldn't blame him if he had. My left optic had a slash going diagonally through it from the battle with the insecticons; it had clawed right through the optic, unsalvageable. So, I learnt to fight without it. I hardly noticed it anymore.

While bathing we usually paired off with a partner so that they could clean our backs for us and there was no sense of greed in our community. No, we did and shared everything together because we couldn't afford to be stingy. What little we did get was shared fairly or our numbers would dwindle because of it.

We finished up with his cleaning and I took up the buffer so that he could at least shine even with his cuts and dents. He sighed into the touch of the tool and I wondered how long it had been since he had been pampered. Medics were a rare commodity in the war; well, Medics such as Ratchet. Knockout wasn't much of a Medic where we were concerned. Sure, he had gone to Medical school at one point but rumors had it that he was kicked out for bad behavior.

I was almost done when the room went quiet again. My optics turned to find EC-091 walking towards us; he still had his mask on, like always. I was an independent mech but not nearly as much as the Captain; almost no one had seen his faceplate under his mask and fewer still had seen him smile. He walked over to stand in front of the Medic then crouched down so he could be on the same level. The double digits had been created bigger than the rest of us so he was a bit of a monster compared to the rest of us.

"Medic," he starts in his ragged vocalizer. Ratchet doesn't even seem phased by the strange mixture of deep baritone and static. "Please let me repay your work on my team."

Ratchet rolls his optics in subtle frustration. "How many times do I have to say this? I didn't do it because I wanted payment!" he throws his arms up in an I-surrender-gesture.

091 doesn't falter or move; he was a mech with a high sense of honor. "I will not let your good deed be repaid by violence," he affirms with conviction that honeys his voice every so slightly.

"How did you damage your vocalizer?" he ignores the previous comment to ask. He reaches out to touch the mech's throat. We all jump when the Captain's servo shoots out to catch Ratchet's wrist, gently but firmly.

We are all very silent and still as the two mechs lock gazes. It was silent except for the running water from the spouts but none of us had ever seen someone square off with EC-091 like this. Double digit warriors were rare and not known for tranquility but I could see the tension slowly slipping from 091's form. He trusted the Medic; he trusted the Medic just as the rest of us did even though he had only been here so short a time.

He took the Medic's servo and brought it closer, lower until he pressed it to his spark chamber, over his sigil. "When you are better," he starts and we all know where this is going by the gesture. "My body is yours."

* * *

><p><strong><span>To b<span>e continued...**

* * *

><p>AN: Okay so I have to give credit to the designs for the Drones! The lovely ~pika from Deviantart drew a picture that filled me with so much inspiration that I asked if I could use the designs! The picture is here: http:/pika .deviantart .com /gallery/36500360?offset=24#/d4sobmj (just take out the spaces before the periods and before "/gallery". It's an amazing picture and I'm sure you can guess who each of them are in my story!

So, I have to admit that I love where this is going! xD I love the faceless characters so much in this series and I want to create a personality for each of them!

Anyways, thanks for all of the feedback and support! I hope you enjoyed this!


	24. Bleed Like Me: Part Two

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrone

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Violence; Sexual content; Hint of Non-Con

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p><em>"You look so fine.<em>

_I want to break your heart,_  
><em>And give you mine.<em>  
><em>You're taking me over."<em>

~ Garbage _"You Look So Fine"_

* * *

><p>"E-Excuse me?" Ratchet asks, obviously very shocked.<p>

I exchanged a look with Puck but he just shrugged. "Ratchet, it's very common for us to exchange a service for another service and if that happens to be-"

"Oh Primus, no! You don't have to do that!" he gasps, chuckling nervously. "I told you, I didn't do it for any other reason than it needed to be done!"

091 looks at the mech for a few long moments before pressing the servo more firmly to his spark chamber. "I have no other means to pay you, Medic. If you wish to be a part of our ranks, you must follow our way of life," he points out in his dreadful monotone. We can almost hear the amusement but I wasn't sure if I was just making it up.

The Medic releases a huge sigh from his oral vent in frustration. "I don't want to take that sort of payment it just seems…inappropriate," he explains only deepening the chasm between our worlds.

"Wait," Puck states after a few moments of silence. "You're afraid of taking advantage of EC-091?"

The humor of the subject couldn't be denied and the room burst into laughter, easing some of the tension in Ratchet's shoulders. "I just think it feels a little too much like…that," he tries to explain, still looking rather uncomfortable. He still had his servo pressed against the mech's spark chamber and we all knew that EC-091 wasn't going to let up. He held his code of honor too highly to be denied this simple exchange. "Fine, I will concede if you allow me to fix your vocalizer."

I can almost see the surprised look on the Captain's faceplate, almost. "That would be two payments that I would owe to you," he states, releasing the Medic's servo so that he could stand from his crouch.

Ratchet tilts his helm up to stare at the tall, imposing warrior. "No, let your teammates take responsibility for their own payments," he shakes his helm with a smirk. "I will fix your vocalizer, in private, then you can repay me. Sound fair?"

EC-091 nods his helm, stoic with his mask on. "Fair enough, allow me to escort you back to your quarters," he offers, looking around at the group surrounding the mech. "They need their own washing and you need recharge."

The Medic shrugs his shoulders. "Why not?" he chuckles just before yelping. Instead of helping him like we had, EC-091 slid his arms under the Medic's knees and shoulders to pick him up, bodily. Ratchet instantly clings to the mech's bulky neck and merely waves as he is carted out of the wash racks.

* * *

><p>I wasn't sure how I enjoyed the thought of this mech carrying me or the fact that he would be making a private call to me later on once I was healed. Maybe it was most disturbing that this was a sort of currency for them when there was no currency to be had. Perhaps, I was just in a bit of culture shock. This was turning out to be a bit like a small town in the Nemesis' hull. They took their rations together, they bathed together, they slept together, and now I find out that they interface as an exchange for services. It was…alien, to say the least.<p>

Honestly, it was called prostitution back on Cybertron and even here on Earth but it seemed completely normal to them. I was curious, truth be told, but I was also mildly horrified that I had accepted the agreement. What could I do, though? This hulking mech of an Eradicon was right. If I wanted to be taken into the community, I had to follow their rules. What was the human expression, 'when in Rome'?

"Is this truly a common agreement?" I wonder aloud to the mech carrying me. He was a lot bigger than the other drones and I was curious but decided to ask later once we knew each other better.

He hardly spares a glance at me from behind his mask but nods. "Yes, it may seem strange to you, Medic, but we trade what we can," he explains in his ravaged vocalizer. It was better to have one then to be left mute, I suppose. "We are given little so we share and take what is given with promise of payment. I know it was called prostitution on Cybertron, I remember the rules back on planet, but here we do what we must to survive."

I was starting to understand the concept but it still didn't sit right in my fuel tanks. "So…is there a procedure for who does what in this sort of agreement? The person who is receiving payment is spike and the other is valve or is it one vocalizer for one overload?" I question, curious now that it was certain he wouldn't shy away from the conversation.

A burst of static comes from the mech and it takes me a second to realize that it is a deformed chuckle. "The details are up to you, seeing as you are receiving the payment," he tells me just as we come to my door. It opens on my command and the large Eradicon walks in to set me gently on my berth. There was still pain but it was mild and ignorable compared to earlier when I was being pummeled.

"Yeah, right," I mutter, unconvinced. "I highly doubt you to be a valve mech."

Again, a burst of static that has me wondering just what happened to his vocalizer. "No," he admits, standing beside my berth with an impeccably straight back and his wings at just the right angle. He reminded me a lot of Prowl when he stood like that, so precise and calculated.

I shrug with a smirk. "That's okay, I like to switch," I confess lightly.

Staring at me, he sits down on the edge of the berth slowly, his movements deliberate. One servo lifts to take the mask from his face and I find my spark pounding harshly against the inside of my spark chamber. His faceplate was similar to the rest of the drones but his optic sockets were narrow and his chin had a certain decoration that the others did not. It was the right side of his faceplate that caught my attention though.

He was covered in burns on that side and it distorted his faceplate so severely that the red optic was a dim light in the charred, deformed metal. "What…What happened?" I ask, in awe and unaware that I was running my fingers down his cheek.

"You are familiar with Blitzwing, I hope," he starts and I nod. The triple-charger was a mech that was better off dead. "He used me as a decoy and his flamethrower did this."

Horror sank deep in my spark chamber at the damage that only a new faceplate could change. "Is that how you damaged your vocalizer?" I finally find the nerve to ask.

He shakes his helm and takes my servo in his own. "That is another story for another day," he says softly, his damaged voice dipping into some static again. I wondered what it would sound like once I repaired it.

"When you get off from shift tomorrow, come here and I'll fix it," I give a small grin even as he is mirroring the gesture. It softened his features incrementally but it didn't make the burns any less startling. They, somehow, fit him, though. Instead of taking away from his overall appearance, they only enhanced his appeal. Like all of the other drones, he had his quirks and his personality that made him attractive.

He nods his head before leaning down over me. I flinch but don't move away…where would I go? He braced a forearm against the berth beside my head, stopping barely an inch away. "Trust me, Ratchet," he breathes, his vocalizer dreadful but alluring all in it's own right. "You won't object to this agreement once I have my servos on your…or in you as the case may be."

I feel the heat flush my faceplate just as his derma cover mine. It had been nearly a century since I had kissed anyone and I had to say this was well worth the wait. I expected the kiss to be just as deliberate and calculated as everything else he did but instead, my mouth was ravished. His glossa tasted of heat and electricity as it explored every inch of my oral vent. His denta nipped playfully at my glossa and lower derma before he pulled away.

Panting, I could only stare in shock at the mech's confident smirk. He didn't need to say anything else and merely put his mask back on then disappeared. I hated to admit that he had left me hot and bothered only by a single kiss, which was, while amazing, frustrating. I'm an old model and shouldn't be responding so easily to the advances of a young mech, let alone a drone. Then again, what did it matter whether they were born with names or numbers; it seemed that they all had experience one way or another.

* * *

><p>We arrived at Ratchet's door right before we were supposed to go down for our morning rations. He would probably still have problems walking today so Puck, Dante and I had decided to come help him. I probably wouldn't do anything but get the door seeing as I was much smaller than the mech we were helping. It was still as much as I could give him.<p>

After all, I didn't have something like a good interface session to offer up like EC-091. There were very few mechs who had ever been offered such a deal with the mech but from what went around…he never failed to satisfy. One mech, dead now, had even told me it was the best interface had had ever experienced. I felt inadequate that I couldn't offer him something like that; I wasn't very good at it from what I had been told.

"Come on in," the mech's voice called from inside when Puck knocked.

"Rise and shine!" Puck calls out happily as he walks into the room. Ratchet was already sitting on the edge of the berth and looked, truthfully, a lot better already. "I'm Doctor Puck and these are your lovely resident nurses for the day, Dante and Sermin! Ready for your valve check?"

My faceplate heats under the mask at the inappropriate comment. "Shut up, Puck," Dante gets to him first with a sharp jab of the elbow. "How are you feeling?"

He was already walking over to touch the Medic's arm but was shrugged off. "Better, I've got an appointment with Knockout here in about thirty minutes," he comments while standing on his own.

My optics fixed on the Autobot sigil that I had all but forgotten about. His sigil didn't matter when he was kind enough to fix my inept arm. "Is he going to repair you?" I ask softly, hesitant. Was it just to change the sigil or was it to fix the damage done by Megatron? You could never tell with the Overlord; sometimes he would fix you after he slagged you and sometimes he'd let you suffer.

Ratchet shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "Who knows?" he mutters, focusing on walking as evenly as he could to the door. Puck and Dante were a constant shadow to the Medic but he seemed pretty stable for someone who had gotten the scrap knocked out of them the day before. "I just want some energon right now."

I smile up at him even though he can't see it through my mask. "That, we can help with!" I chuckle, walking out the door with him.

It was definitely slow progress but he was able to walk a straight line as long as it was at a leisurely pace. He didn't say much, much too focused on putting one pede in front of the other. Every now and then, a look of pain would cross his faceplate then quickly disappear.

Thankfully, he didn't have to do much once he entered the mess hall. The table closest to the door, oddly enough, held only one mech, EC-091, and he stood to easily guide the injured Medic to a seat. He nodded to someone across from the hall and a cube of energon was brought to Ratchet by Gene. "You really didn't have to do this," he chuckles even as EC-091 sits down next to him with his own cube.

"No," I smile, touching his servo gently with my fingers. "It's the least we could do."

The group was the same size as a normal Eradicon team and I couldn't help but smile behind my mask at how comfortable everyone was. EC-091 was soon named Gabriel, an Arch-Angel in human religion and a powerful figure even today, and I thought it fit him perfectly. He seemed so much more relaxed now than I had ever seen him and it was comforting to know that his vocalizer would soon be back to normal.

Ratchet downed his energon quickly before standing. "Allow me to escort you," I offer with a smile. "I have to go towards the Med-bay anyways."

We departed our small group of mismatched companions to head for the Med-bay. I wasn't ecstatic about seeing the resident Doctor but I probably wouldn't have to see him if I just walked the Medic to the door. "You're not going to offer your services to me too, are you?" the older mech chuckles as we slowly make our way through the corridors.

I flush under my mask. "No, I'm afraid I don't have much to offer in that area," I admit softly. He glances over at me with curiosity in his optics. He obviously expected me to go on with my explanation. "I'm not very good at it."

"At interfacing?" he teases gently. "No one's bad at interfacing, Sermin. Each mech has their own preferences, that's all." I stare down at the ground, embarrassed to be having this conversation. He stays silent for a few moments before touching my arm so gently I thought I might have made it up. "Who told you that?"

His powers of empathy were too powerful; maybe I was just easy to read. "No one important," I mutter, subconsciously rubbing my arm where he had touched me.

Ratchet sighs deeply. "Sermin, it's not like I'm going to know them by their number. Just tell me," he tries softly.

The problem was that he did know the mech. "It's no one important, really, just-Knockout!" I gasp as I look up to find the Commander leaning against the wall down the corridor. He had that smug look on his face, arms crossed over his pristine spark chamber. My spark throbbed harshly as he pushed himself from the wall and made his way over.

Ratchet looks up at the mech as he saunters over, his faceplate showing no shock or derision. "Knockout, I didn't think you'd meet me halfway, how kind," he comments with his usual dry humor even as I am taking a step back. "Thank you, I'll be fine from here."

He was speaking with me and I nodded my helm, glad for the escape. I excuse myself, moving to walk around Knockout but his servo reaches out making me jerk when it wraps around my upper arm tightly. He pulls me closer so that he can get to my audio receptor. "My room, tonight," he whispers before shoving me away.

"Sir," I whisper before slipping away to the ground bridge.

* * *

><p>Well, now I knew who was telling Sermin lies.<p>

"Ratchet," the sleazy mech drawls, walking up to take my arm as if to help. "I was just coming to your room to fetch you! How are you feeling today?"

His optics slowly took in the damage done and I wondered what he thought about my fresh buff job. I may have a couple of dents and scrapes across my form but I was shining brighter than I had in a long time. The small group of drones that had taken a liking to me did a wonderful job of cleaning out all of the energon and dirt that got trapped in my seams. Gene was also very good at buffing out my armor without adding more pain to my cuts.

They were probably used to dealing with hurt comrades.

"Better than yesterday," I say dryly as he escorts me the last bit of the way to the med-bay. I felt like an invalid with him holding my arm like that but I didn't say anything.

Knockout chuckles anyways as the doorway to the Med-bay opens to allow us inside. "Well, Megatron has been gracious enough to allow me to fix you up," he says as if it truly were a blessing from the Lord. Right, he was just fixing me so that he could use me later on. "And, we have the tricky task of changing your sigil."

Tricky? It was a process that would take barely thirty minutes if it was done correctly. I kept my vocalizer off though and let him babble on. He was a hack, to give some benefit of the doubt, without any talent for medicine. Thankfully, my wounds were easy enough to fix with little to no knowledge of repairs so I wasn't too worried. I might have a few welding scars but that wasn't anything too terrible.

Not when I compared them to Gabriel's burns or Gene's optic damage.

By the time my wounds were tended and my sigil was changed, I had been there too long with the Interrogator. I was able to walk on my own with little to no pain though there were a few things that would have to heal themselves, which would take no time at all. I needed a little more recharge and some time to get my tools recalibrated to fix Gabriel's vocalizer tonight.

The door to my room opened at my command but I paused at the sight of Soundwave standing there. Dread, cool and piercing, slipped through my systems as the door closed; I was trapped with Megatron's most loyal Decepticon. "Soundwave," I greet the mech with as much confidence as I could.

"Objective: Unknown," he suddenly speaks in a monotone, mechanical vocalizer that shocks me. I had never heard the mech utter a word before; honestly, I had thought he was unable to speak.

"You mean, with the Drones?" I ask slowly. He nods his masked helm just slightly. "I just want to help them. I'm not trying to build an army against Megatron."

He stays silent for a few moments, calculating something before he nods. "Objective: Improve Megatron's Army," he questions without really asking a question. I nod. "Understood."

Then he was walking out of the room, all long limbs and blank mask, right past me. I was left in a stunned silence. Had…Soundwave just given me permission to disobey Megatron's orders? I assumed that meant he would cover for me so that I could give the repairs that the Drones needed, right?

"I'm too old for this slag," I mutter before going to my berth.

It felt like mere minutes when I shut down for recharge that a knock resounded on my door. I definitely needed more time to recover but I did feel a lot better and some of the stiffness was already washing from my joints. It was easier to walk over to the door and I was already giving a groggy smile before I opened it to see Gabriel standing there.

"Shift already over?" I mutter, moving to the side so that he could walk into the room. He made the already small space seem all that much smaller with his hulking form. I couldn't help but flush lightly as the thought of him pressed between my thighs, staring down at me with that confident smirk on his faceplate and quickly pushed it from my processor.

I may be an old model but I wasn't dead.

Gabriel doesn't hesitate to pull off his mask and set it to the side, which I can't help but be flattered by. His burns were a little less frightening this time and I gestured for him to sit down on the berth. "Yes, no problems with the Autobots today," he informs me before settling on my berth and somehow looking like he was meant to be there.

My spark throbs at the mention of my old faction but I push it away. "Good, that means I don't have any other repairs to make," I mumble, moving to stand in front of the mech. "Tilt your head up, good."

He was silent as I opened the compartment that held his vocalizer in his neck cables. The repair shouldn't cause any pain and I was almost certain the problem was a few loose or burnt wires. If it was any more than that then he wouldn't be able to speak at all.

I find the vocalizer and wince. This wasn't done by an attack or well-placed shot; this was from someone's servos. "Someone tampered with your vocalizer," I whisper softly, knowing he can't answer since I have turned off the delicate box to keep him from experiencing pain as I resituate wires gently.

It wasn't until I finished and closed his neck compartment that he spoke up. "It got damaged in my first battle," he admits and I feel my faceplate flush. His voice was…beautiful. Maybe it was because of the change from his previous tone but…I couldn't help but stare. It was a smooth, lulling baritone that reminded me of warm oil on a cold night in Praxus. It was expressive and gentle where his previous vocalizer had been more static than voice. "The resident Medic was anything but, and this happened. He never thought anything was wrong."

I place a servo on the mech's shoulder and squeeze. "It's a shame because you have a beautiful vocalizer," I say with a smile. His own smile crosses his scarred faceplate, servos wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. His legs spread so that I could get right between them, his fingers curling down to just barely touch my aft.

His helm leans up, until his derma brush across my receptor antennae. "How can I ever thank you?" he whispers to me in his smooth as night voice. Shudders, sharp and pleasuring, rush down my spinal struts as his fingers run down my hips then my thighs, following my transformation seams.

I could see why other Drones would take interface from this mech as a trade; it was better than currency, already. "Gabriel, you shouldn't overwork your vocalizer…ah…just yet," I whisper weakly as he runs his thumbs up the inside of my thighs.

His chuckle is deep, reverberating, and I find my legs going weak as it vibrates through my metal. "I love the way you say my name," he growls deep within his vocalizer.

Oh, I was slagged.

Thankfully, the door opened at that opportune time and I heard a low whistle that could only belong to Puck. "Scrap, I'd tell you to get a room but…" he chuckles with a smirk.

"Puck, I told you to knock!" Dante snaps, trying to drag his friend out the door by the arm. "Sorry."

I could tell he was flushed beneath the mask and can't help the laugh. "It's time for our nightly ration anyways," I say, glad to have an escape route.

Gabriel hasn't released his hold on me. "We'll finish this later," he whispers into my receptor. I step back quickly even when his fingers brush against my interface panel as he reaches for his mask. "Let's go or the line will be terrible."

Puck and Dante pause in shock. "Holy Primus, is that what you really sound like?" Puck nearly chokes on his own words. "You're voice is like an audio overload!"

"Puck!" Dante shouts harshly.

"What? It is!" his friend chuckles even as I am rolling my optics and shoving them out of the room.

"Let's go, you two," I snort lightly.

Thankfully, the mess hall isn't too crowded when we get there. Gabriel, as soon as he speaks up, is an instant hit with his good-as-new vocalizer and has to deal with a crowd of Drones who want to hear him talk. One even asks him if he will quote some dumb human movie, something about feeling lucky. He seems uncomfortable with all of the attention but it'll do him some good to socialize so I leave him to it.

"Gabriel sounds so different," Gene comments while sipping at his energon. He didn't have mess hall duty today and it was a nice change to have him sit at our table with us. "Good work, Doc."

"It's the vocalizer he's always had. I just patched it up," I point out just as I spot Sermin getting through the line. My spark clenches harshly. Right, we had other problems to deal with still. "Sermin!"

He jumps, obviously lost in thought, but manages a smile when I wave him over. "How'd your appointment go?" he asks, setting his cube down before he takes the seat next to me. I couldn't help but notice the frightened look in his optics or the way he fidgeted with his cube, distracted.

"Well, he patched me up," I respond, reaching over to touch the twitchy servo gently. "You okay, kid?"

His optics meet mine for the first time since he sat down. "Yeah, just…tired," he lies but I let it go.

Gabriel was watching us from behind his mask and I guessed he had already had his energon because he hadn't gotten in line. Matter of a fact, I wasn't sure I had ever been in the mess hall with him and seen him take his mask off. He held off on saying anything to Sermin but I had a feeling he knew what was going on without us explaining.

"Hey, Ratch," Puck grabs my attention away from the nervous miner. "You going to let us help you bathe again? I'd hate for Gabriel to get all of the action!"

Dante doesn't even try to scold his friend and merely presses his palm to his forehead. I laugh at the offer but, truthfully, they had done such a great job before… "Why not?" I shrug nonchalantly.

"See? You worried for nothing, dude!" Puck nudges his friend who shoves back.

"That wasn't my idea!" Dante declares but I can hear the embarrassment in his tone.

It still shocked me to find that every Drone had their own personality, quirks and fears. The way they were treated, one would assume that they were mindless but Gabriel was right. This was a community; this was a group who made up a working body of individuals. They were a close-knit tribe that did what it had to with what it was given and I couldn't help but be flattered to be accepted into their community.

We finished our energon and went straight to the wash racks as a group and I once again was pampered. This time, though, I gave back. I ran some diagnostics on them while helping to get wings and hard to reach places. None of this small band of friends would work on anything less than perfect vitals, I promised this to myself.

"Well, I should be heading off," Sermin states after I am done with his check-up and washing.

As he is turning away, I reach out to grab his wrist. "Come see me afterwards," I whisper into his audio receptor, watching the humiliation and flush rush across his faceplate. "Will you do that?"

He hesitates but nods his helm before disappearing.

* * *

><p>Oh Primus, it hurt to walk.<p>

I hadn't walked in expecting him to be gentle but he wasn't usually so violent. Had I done something to make him angry? It was hard to understand a mech that left so many bleeding scratches during an interface session. I wanted to just curl up in my berth and slip into an exhausted recharge but…I couldn't. I promised Ratchet I would go see him afterwards.

He knew what was going on but…I squeezed my arms tighter around my body in humiliation. I didn't want him to see me like this. Battered and used. This wasn't the image I wanted him to see, not that it would make a difference. I wasn't attractive like Puck and Dante; I wasn't independent like Gene; and I definitely didn't have the frag-appeal or strength of Gabriel. I was just awkward and homely.

I come to a standstill in front of the mech's door but don't do anything. Maybe I should go to the wash racks and clean the energon from my form. Did it really matter in the long run? Ratchet wasn't stupid; he was equip to know what was going on with my vitals.

The door swishes open and I look up at the mech standing there.

He doesn't show any surprise at my disordered state. No, he simply wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into the room. It was like the last virus in a network: I crashed. He easily caught my weight and guided me to his berth so that he could hold me tightly. My vents worked overtime to pull in enough air to cool my overheating systems and I imagined this must be what a panic attack feels like for a human. I just couldn't figure out what to do with all of my excess stress.

"It's okay," he whispers and I look up at him through my hazy gaze. If I didn't rein it in…I would truly shut down. "Here." He takes a cleaning cloth and starts to dab at the cuts on my form, somehow soothing my racing processor. "You haven't overloaded." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not good enough to deserve an overload," I whimper, feeling him tense exponentially.

His servos gently take my shoulders to push me away but only so he can look at my faceplate. "Did he tell you that?" he asks, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear the anger. "Lay down." I look up at him in shock but see nothing but determination. "You trust me, right?"

I did. I trusted him where I had never trusted any other mech since my creation. "Yes," I say with more confidence than I thought I had.

He eases me down on his berth, my spark pounding furiously. "Just tell me to stop if it becomes too much," he soothes before leaning close to capture my derma.

My servos raise to push him away, at first, then I slowly ease into the kiss. It was nothing like the way Knockout kisses me. No, it was passionate but it wasn't violent. Instead, I felt my body heat as his glossa slips past my denta to explore every inch of my oral vent. I find myself hesitantly wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer, arching into his body as an ache starts to throb deep within my core.

His servo runs across the outside of my thigh to manipulate my leg so he can slip closer. My body shudders as his fingers tease my transformation seams from my knee to my hip, drawing a strange noise from my vocalizer. It was a moan but it was different from the kind I was used to uttering with Knockout; this one was void of pain and replaced with a pleasure that glitches my optics.

"R-Ratchet," I whimper when he pulls away to drag his denta down my neck cables. Pleasure, unlike anything I had ever felt before, slowly starts to build behind my interface array; it was driving me wild and I couldn't control my vocalizer. "P-Please!"

I wasn't even sure what I wanted. This was completely different than my previous intimate experiences but all I knew was that I didn't want him to stop. His servos gently hook under my knees to bend then spread my legs in a manner that was both embarrassing and arousing at the same time. He trailed his glossa, denta and derma down my body, lower…lower…

My face flushed as my interface panel snicked open without permission but he only smiled. "Want me to stop?" he breathes playfully.

"N-No! Please!" I beg shamelessly.

I can practically feel his smirk just before his glossa runs up the underside of my pressurized spike. Explosions of white erupt in my vision at the rush of pleasure and I reach down to grip the mech's helm desperately. He doesn't pull away though but takes my tip into his mouth and applies suction that has me moaning desperately. I'm so distracted that I don't even feel his servo run down to my valve until the pain lances through my system.

"He takes you dry," he states with no little amount of anger before I feel the sensitive tip of his finger press against something just at the rim of my valve. It was like an eruption of pleasure that has me jerking my hips again but in pleasure this time. "Ah, there it is."

My pain disappears as he slides his oral vent across my spike and slips his finger into my lubricating valve. My engine rumbles with pleasure and my fans click on to cool my heating frame in response. The charge built so quickly that I didn't have a chance to warn him.

My abdomen clenched and I curled around his helm as my overload struck me mute. It was so much more powerful than self-service. Knockout had never let me overload during our sessions and I couldn't help a little of the bitterness that swept through me.

Exhausted, I let myself fall back against the berth, panting to cool my overheated frame. He slips up to lie by my side, watching my faceplate with a gentle expression. "I-I should have warned you," I chuckle weakly, looking up at him.

He laughs. "It's okay," he soothes, stroking my helm. "I know when it's coming."

"What about you?" I ask, reaching for his interface panel that was still closed.

He grabs my wrist gently. "Another time," he smiles. "For now, recharge."

Hesitant, I move to get out of the berth only to find his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me back against him. It makes me flush but I settle against him. It was comfortable, I couldn't help but think before darkness claims my processor.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<br>**

* * *

><p>AN: Man, this story has consumed my Muse! I love it! Thank you so much for all of your feedback! I'm falling in love with my Drones! T3T

Anyways, tell me what you think! :D


	25. Bleed Like Me: Part Three

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Violence; Sexual content

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p><em>"Who's gonna fight for what's right?<br>Who's gonna help us survive?  
>We're in the fight of our lives.<br>(And we're not ready to die)_

_Who's gonna fight for the weak?_  
><em>Who's gonna make 'em believe?<em>  
><em>I've got a hero (I've got a hero).<em>  
><em>Livin' in me.<em>

_I'm gonna fight for what's right._  
><em>Today I'm speaking my mind.<em>  
><em>And if it kills me tonight.<em>  
><em>(I will be ready to die)<em>

_A hero's not afraid to give his life._  
><em>A hero's gonna save me just in time."<em>

~ Skillet _"Hero"_

* * *

><p>Even though I knew for certain that Sermin had gone to visit Knockout last night, he walked into the mess hall with a better disposition than ever. I stood to meet them halfway, noting several scratches across the young miner's form but also the slight bounce in his step. "Good morning, Ratchet, Sermin," I say, glad for the comforting smile on the older mech's faceplate.<p>

"Good morning, Gabriel! I'll go get us our cubes," Sermin tells Ratchet before walking off.

I didn't miss the soft graze of Sermin's servo to Ratchet's. I note a slight limp but it could have been worse. "Good morning, Gabe, how are you?" Ratchet asks as he starts towards our usual table. My servo stops him with a light touch on his arm.

"Thank you," I say softly so that no one else hears. He looks up at me with a light curiosity and I can't help but squeeze his arm. "Whatever you did helped."

His optics flash slightly in what I can only think is anger. "This has been going on for a while," it wasn't a question. His grimace was livid and I could practically feel the heat coming from him. "That's disgusting."

"It's what we were built for," I point out.

"No, it's not!" he snaps, catching the attention of some of the others around us. I can't help the smile that crosses my faceplate behind my mask; he was a passionate old model, I'd give him that. "You were built to be warriors, not interface Drones!"

His heated response, the look in his optics, only furthered my respect for the mech. I let my smile widen behind my mask before, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder; it was a poor substitute for what I truly wanted to do to him at that moment. It would have to suffice for now. "You are one of few who think that, Ratchet," I tell him before turning to walk towards our table.

"Have you already had your energon for the morning?" he changes the subject as we sit down. We were the first at the table and I nodded my helm easily. "You always take your ration before the rest?"

"It is prudent, as a leader, for me to keep my team at ease. I fear that my appearance would only cause more distress," I explain calmly. I was accustomed to the burns, seeing as I had had them for most of my function, but I feared for the opinions of my team. They could not lose faith in my ability to lead or fight; I did not want them to question my leadership on the field. Only disaster could come from that.

He chuckles lightly, the sound pure music even though it was a rough texture. "You wouldn't be vain, would you?" he smirks with a kind of humor that puts me at ease. He was neither mocking, nor condescending when he laughed; instead, it was the kind of laughter that invited you to join in with him. It was contagious and a disease I wouldn't mind succumbing to.

"If by that, you mean to assume that I am not self-conscious of the burns, then you would be correct," I chuckle, fully enjoying the way my vocalizer didn't hurt when I used it. It was nice having a fully operational vocalizer, but, truth be told, all the attention I got for it was exhausting.

Ratchet looked across the hall to see where the other were in line and I couldn't help but admire him. He wasn't the most attractive mech I had ever seen, by any means, but there was a certain charm to him. He was a bulky, heavily-armored mech but his waist was slender and his hips surely rounded under all of his protective coverings. Perhaps I could get him to let me strip him of his outer metal so that I could feel every inch of his protoform against mine.

As if sensing my thoughts, he turns to look at me. "What?" he asks with a small amount of flush creeping over his cheek ridges.

The heat that spread through my system was unnerving. "I was just thinking…" I whisper, leaning my mask close to his audio receptor. My vocalizer was attractive, I knew this by now, so I let it dip low and husky. "Of all the ways I could thank you for my vocalizer…tonight."

I watched the shudder rush down his spinal struts and smirked. The heat poured off of him but he couldn't answer before Puck pushed in between us on the bench to sit down. "Alright you two! You're making everyone uncomfortable!" he laughs playfully. "Oh man, you're warm!"

"Shut up, Puck," Dante sighs, sitting across from us with his own cube.

"What? I can't help that I'm dreadfully jealous of the attention Ratchet gets from chocolate-chords over here," he states patting me on the arm in a friendly way. It wasn't an unwelcome gesture but I wasn't used to others openly touching me; usually, fear and discomfort were what mechs felt around me. Maybe this vocalizer was a good thing after all.

"Chocolate-chords?" Ratchet questions, smiling up at Sermin as a cube is set in front of him. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one that notices the happiness in the young miner's optics or the soft pat that Ratchet gives to his slim aft. "Have you even tried chocolate? And a vocalizer is a box not made up of chords."

Puck rolls his optics, he had been picking up more and more human quirks since we got to Earth. Probably watching that slag they called entertainment. "It's just a saying, Ratch, jeez," he mutters, earning a sigh from his best friend.

How he and Dante got along…I'll never understand.

"Just saying," Puck continues casually. "If Gabriel was a human, he'd be black!"

Dante smacks the front of his mask with his palm in frustration. "Primus above, Puck!" he sighs in exasperation.

"Aw, you know you love me, Dante!" the mech purrs, shifting his leg under the table.

"Sometimes I won-AH!" I didn't even want to know why Dante had nearly jumped out of his seat in surprise. "Puck!"

I can't help laughing with the others around me even as Gene comes by to sit down with us. "Alright, femmes, you're both pretty," he comments as he takes the seat right in front of me. "You're vocalizer sounds good, Gabriel. How's it feel?"

Gene was probably one of the only vehicons that I could stand for long periods of time. He enjoyed his space and his independence, which I could respect. He wasn't as loud and obnoxious as his brethren either. "Like it was just manufactured," I respond with a glance at Ratchet. He was holding his own conversation with Sermin and it was nice to see the youngling so relaxed.

We lapse into an easy silence for a few moments, happy to take in the conversation around us. Gene is the first to break it. "There's a raid today," he finally mutters so Ratchet won't hear us over his current conversation.

"There is," I affirm calmly. Raids were a tricky business. Supposedly, the Autobots had found a good source of energon and were working hard to mine it before we could get there. Megatron definitely had the upper hand when it came to mining because of all the miner Drones he had. "You ready?"

He vents a sigh before drinking more of his energon. "As ready as I'll ever be. We lose more vehicons in mine raids," he whispers and I can hear the unvoiced fear: _Am I next?_ It was a valid concern but he hadn't lasted this long because he wasn't capable.

My fist clenches under the table at a sudden rush of anger. It's source was hard to place so I let it go. "Just stay away from Bulkhead. Let the double digits take care of him," I advice even as he scoffs.

"There are so few of them left and we're just not built like that anymore," he comments with distain so thick I fear it will clog his vocalizer.

It was true, sadly. After the double digits, the Drones became smaller and smaller until they started looking like Sermin. Gene, a three hundred model, was a little bigger than say Dante, a seven hundred model, or Puck, an eight hundred model. Shockwave seemed to be getting lazy or running out of materials to build us with. There were hardly any four digits left and they had just been sent to us right after we came to Earth.

The siren went off to signal the end of our morning ration period and I stood with the rest of our table. We had to report to the ground bridge but I was surprised when Ratchet sidled up beside me. "If you get hit," he says loud enough for most of those around us to hear. "Stay alive long enough for me to get to you."

Then, he disappeared further ahead in the mass of Drones. The word would travel fast but it was both comforting and frightening to know he would be out there with us. I had heard of Ratchet's prowess on the battlefield from the few Eradicons who had survived his impressive surprise attack. He had been, of course, under the influence of synthetic energon but it was a small glimpse into the past when he had been a strong, young warrior.

Even knowing he could take care of himself, I worried for his well-being. I suddenly cursed my beloved wings for keeping me outside the mine when I wanted to be inside, protecting the Medic. All I could do was stay outside and hold my position just in case the battle came outside. I wasn't used to feeling helpless nor was I accustomed to feeling so protective over someone.

It was an addictive sensation.

* * *

><p>Pain, so sharp it dulled my processor, raced through my systems and my optic fluttered offline. I was used to darkness but the panic was quick to set in; I couldn't make up or down so my equilibrium must be slagged. My internals ran a diagnostics so quickly it sent my spark pounding but it shut down my optic and tried to reboot it. Where was my opponent? The lug-nut must be here somewhere; did he think I was down for the count or was he otherwise occupied for the moment?<p>

My optics flashed back to life just in time to see the hulking Autobot raise his cannon-ball fist above his head. He was looking straight at me with that callous smirk on his faceplate. After all of my battles, I was going to die on the ground by this ex-Wrecker. It could be worse, I guess.

"No!" I vaguely hear someone roar as I shut off my optic. Call me a coward but I didn't want to see my own death. "Get away from him!"

Yet again, nothing happens and I online my optic just as a red and white blur crosses in front of me to slash out at the bulky mech. "Ratchet, it's me!" Bulkhead tries to plead even as energon flows from the cut on his abdomen. Those were some dangerous blades, I thought in my oncoming delirium. "I don't want to fight you, Ratch!"

The huge mech backs up but Ratchet follows after him and they disappear from my vision or maybe that was because I couldn't hold my head in that direction anymore. All I could see was the lightly glowing ceiling from my one optic. Slag, I was in a lot of pain. It'd be nice to have some high-grade...I felt the dry chuckle but it sounded more like a sickening gurgle. There was energon in my oral vent...that couldn't be a good sign.

"Gene, hold on!" I hear that familiar voice whisper just as servos were on my form. I turn my head a small bit to get the red and white 'bot-no-'con in my limited vision. "You're going to be okay."

"Ratchet," I mutter, the sound wet and ugly. Ratchet doesn't wince or show his disdain but I know it lurks under the surface.

"Stop talking, you glitch," he snaps but I can hear the worry underlying the order.

I wince as something is shoved into my arm. "You're sexy when you're angry," I mumble weakly. Warmth floods my processor. "Am I dying, Doc?"

He is baring his denta in an effort to hide his anxiety with anger and somehow it only makes him more attractive. "No, you're not!" he tries to say with venom but it only sounds like a choked sob. "I just shot you up with some sedatives, so you'll feel a little weird for a second."

It was already soaking through my body to take the pain away. I was suddenly very sleepy and my injury, whatever it was, was making my vision spin or maybe that was the sedative. "Don' wanna sleep, Doc," I slur, fluttering my optic as I feel pressure in my abdomen. He was working fast, I could hardly keep up with his movements now as the edges of my vision started to darken. "Don' leave me."

Ratchet heaves a sigh that somehow mixed frustration and sadness. "I'm not leaving you, Gene," he promises just as the darkness starts to envelope my processor as well as my vision. "I'm right here."

"'M glad," I manage just before my systems do a manual shut down and I lose consciousness.

* * *

><p>"Is he going to be okay?" Sermin asks as soon as I step out of the room.<p>

The energon on my servos was still warm as I ran a cloth over them and I had to keep myself from wincing so that the young miner didn't take anything from it. "I've done what I can and the worst is fixed," I explain, staring at the small group standing in the hallway. Gabriel, Puck and Dante had been mostly left out of the battle, mostly, though I heard they did get a little action; Sermin, thankfully, had been at a different mining site. "He just needs some rest, for now."

Sermin doesn't look convinced, holding his servos tightly to his spark chamber. "Hey, come on, let's go get some energon, Sermin," Dante offers, touching the youngling's arm gently. "There's nothing we can do here." His optics glance up at me and I nod my helm; it would be good to get the mech's processor away from the damage done.

The miner looks unconvinced but concedes to go with Dante and Puck who stand on either side to escort him. They looked like body guards as they talked to him about useless things to take his processor away from Gene. Gabriel stays though and I can't help but take comfort in his strong disposition. He touches my shoulder gently before pulling my faceplate against his spark chamber in a rare show of affection.

"He'll be fine," he soothes in that deep, resonating voice. "He's survived much worse without a Medic of your caliber, Ratchet."

I wanted to believe him, I truly did, but I kept bringing up the memory of Bulkhead's cannonball impacting Gene's abdomen. I could see it with such clarity that it hurt. Energon splattered everywhere as the spines on the sphere lanced through the frail metal that the Vehicon had just below his spark chamber. The only way I even knew it was Gene was by his unique frequency and for some reason I was highly keyed in to it along with the others. Gene had been so close to death that I had gone up against Bulkhead without thinking; he could have easily dismantled me. Thankfully, he still had some inhibitions about fighting me so I got away clean.

"How many did we lose?" the hulking mech asks after a few moments of silence.

Venting a sigh, I wrap my arms around his waist to lean closer. "Too many," I admit sadly. A lot of grounders had been sacrificed, for what? The mine was pretty much stripped when we got there; not much more than a few cubes left for us. "We have six in there."

It was an extra room that I had been allowed to turn into a make-shift Med-bay for the Drones. Megatron had allowed me that much; the true Med-bay was only for the Generals and he thought it was a waste of time to try and heal the wounded Drones. They were just cannon-fodder, right? Not to me. Since I had changed sides they had become...my family. I couldn't remember a time after Praxus that I had truly felt at home. Even in the Prime's team...I felt detached even with them. This community of Drones, creations built only for death, took me in and I felt at home.

Five of them would survive, I knew this for certain but Gene was the worst off among them. His internals were damaged pretty bad and I worried that there might be something I missed. Gabriel's servos stroke down my tired back, making me relax just a bit. "You need some energon and a long rest, Ratchet," he whispers, pulling away just enough to cup the side of my faceplate with his large servo.

My spark pulses strongly. "No, I'm going to sit with him," I pull away and go towards the door.

"Ratchet," I pause to turn and look at him, my servo on the door frame. "Thank you. It's good to feel hope again."

Before I can say anything in response, he turns and walks down the hallway. Staring after him, I push myself back into the makeshift Med-bay. It was the familiar smell of sterilization, burnt metal and energon that I had grown so accustomed to. It reminded me of my private practice back on Cybertron; a time when I had been used for my true purpose, to my oath. I wasn't supposed to kill things; I was a healer, a Medic. I was supposed to help and this war had turned me into a murderer.

Shaking my helm, I walk around to each berth to check on the Vehicons. These were only the ones that I could save; the others were long dead before I got to them. To think, I took out nearly a dozen of the Drones without thinking back in my synthetic energon fiasco. Before now, they were just something to kill off. We feared seeing Knockout or Breakdown, when he was still living, or Dreadwing or, Primus-forbid, Megatron but we never feared these purple and black Drones; we never thought that they had personalities, potential.

Sinking down in the chair next to Gene's berth, I ran my servos across my faceplate to squelch my guilt. How many Genes had I killed? How many Sermins? Looking at the energon transfusion bags and tubes connected to the grounder, I took the recharging mech's servo gently. Never, in all my years as a Medic, had seeing a mech like this hurt so much.

"Here," I hear a soft voice say just as a cube of energon was lowered into my face. Dante's gentle faceplate stares down at me just before he is pulling another chair up to sit by me. "You look like you could use it."

I take the cube with a weak smile. "Thanks," I mutter, taking a sip of the warm liquid. It was soothing, I'll admit and I really did need some fuel. The second the Autobots had retreated, I had worked to get the wounded through the ground bridge. It took some help from Gabriel's team but we did it just in time for Megatron to close the bridge. I got started on Gene as soon as everything was set up and I don't think I stopped moving for close to three or four hours after the attack.

The silence stretches on for so long that when Dante finally speaks I had all but forgotten he was there. "You know," he starts out softly. I look over at him to see the worry creasing his faceplate ever so slightly. "Gene was kind of our Medic before you." I don't say anything, waiting for him to continue. "It didn't matter if you were a grounder or a flier or a miner...if you got shot down on the field...he would drag you away to safety then go back to fight."

My optics went back to the peaceful faceplate of the grounder, looking at the white optic cap. He looked like he had taken a beating. Who the Pit was I kidding? All of them had taken a beating! Gene had lost his optic; Gabriel's vocalizer and faceplate; Sermin's confidence...they had all, at some point or another, been beaten down. Sometimes...it was by me.

"I was one of those mechs several times when I first came to the field," he admits, squeezing his servos into tight fists. "He's an independent mech who likes his solitude but he has a spark of gold, Ratchet. I'm glad you're here when he needs you."

I reach out to touch his servo tenderly. "Gene's a strong spark, Dante," I tell the young mech. "He'll make it." And, for the first time since I saw the grounder get pummeled, I believed it. I had to.

He squeezed my servo back but said nothing for a long time. It was a comfortable silence even if I knew there was something the young mech wanted to say. It took him almost ten minutes to gather the nerve to ask the one question I didn't want to answer. "Ratchet, why did you leave the Autobots?" his voice is barely a whisper and I can't help the way my shoulders tense. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. I just want you to know that I'm glad you came."

I can't help the smile that crosses my faceplate. "I just felt that my place wasn't with the Autobots anymore," I admit honestly. Dante was smart and I knew that he would understand my reasoning even if no one else did. "I felt...taken advantage of."

His optics show his understanding and it soothes my spark. "All of us can understand that feeling," he chuckles dryly, staring at Gene's comatose form. "And I can promise that we will never take you for granted."

Had it come from anyone other than a Drone, I wouldn't have believed them. "I know you probably don't remember Cybertron the way I do, Dante, but if I could rebuild it...I'd fashion it after this community," I say with a humorless smile. "You give so much more than you're given and you take care of one another. This is a true paradise."

His optics widen in shock. "We're only Drones, Ratchet," he tells me, saying Drone as if it were a derogatory term.

"No, Dante, don't you see?" I ask, taking his servos in mine. "You're so much more than that. I used to destroy your kind just as the Decepticons did but...you have personalities and quirks. You have a spark just like mine; what makes me better than you? Nothing."

He looks away from me to Gene and I see something pass through him. "We were created to die, Ratchet. All of us understand this and accept it," he surrenders.

"Stop saying that!" I snap. "A spark isn't trash that can be used and thrown away! You're more than that, Dante!"

Something inside the flier snapped and I had to catch myself before I was thrown back when his arms wrapped around my neck, his derma covering mine. It was shocking but I wrapped my arms around his waist and let him settle on my lap. I think he lost his senses for a second because he jerks away from the kiss, shocked by himself after a moment. "Oh Primus," he mutters, embarrassed.

"Oh no you don't," I chuckle when he tries to escape.

"I don't know what came over me I just-" I quirk an optic ridge at him playfully. "This is highly inappropriate...considering the environment."

I look around the room but all of the patients were recharging. "Yeah, a little," I laugh, releasing my hold on him. He quickly jumps up from my lap, looking a little uncomfortable. "I meant what I said."

He takes a deep breath of air through his oral vent. "Yeah, I know," he whispers before nodding his head and fleeing the room.

* * *

><p>Consciousness was sluggish to finally dawn on my processor but there were several systems that needed to reboot multiple times. I was warned that there had been a full body transfusion, which was odd. Where was I? It was warm here and I was on something solid but it was dark. It took me several minutes to realize that my optic hadn't rebooted yet so I waited for my processor to clean itself. My optic slowly came online and I found myself staring at a dark ceiling. It wasn't the same ceiling that I usually slept under; they all looked the same but something told me this room was different.<p>

I try to sit up but a sharp pain keeps me stationary. There were others here with me but I could hardly tell up from down, left from right. My equalibrium took a bit more time to defrag than the rest of me and then my memories came rushing back in a swift current. "Oh slag," I mutter, looking down at my abdomen as best I can. It looked fine, actually, it looked as if someone had fixed it up.

"Gene," I hear a familiar vocalizer say just as Ratchet's faceplate invades my field of vision. My body instantly relaxes. Who else would it be? "How are you feeling?"

I can't help the smile that crosses my faceplate. "I'm alive," I say, truly grateful for it.

He sits down on the chair next to my berth, smiling. "We thought you were as good as dead," he admits after a few moments of silence. His servo, warm and shaking, wraps around mine and I squeeze it reassuringly.

"Me too," I respond, running my other servo down my abdomen slowly. "Nice fix, though." I look at the transfusion equipment next and wince. "How'd you get Megatron to agree to this?"

His fingers flinch just slightly on my servo. "I have my ways," he smiles before standing to place a servo on my shoulder. "Recharge, now; we can talk later when you're healed."

"Is everyone else...okay?" I whisper as he injects a sedative into my system.

"They're fine. Recharge."

* * *

><p>I hated the smell of a Med-bay.<p>

It just smelt like death to me and I had seen too much of that to be comfortable with it. No, the only reason why I came here was to drag the Medic away for a few hours of recharge. The patients were all in their rooms now anyways, being taken care of by their teams and regimens. Ratchet had done more than enough for those wounded. The fact that they were even given a chance to survive was enough for most of them. All six were grounders and all in the upper-triple digits except for Gene.

Had he done what I instructed and stayed away from Bulkhead...

It didn't matter now. He was fine.

I found Ratchet cleaning up the area with a rag even though it didn't seem like there was a mess to be cleaned. He was always working, always doing something. It was frustrating that this was the fourth...no fifth time that I had been here to try and convince him to recharge. This time, though, I wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Ratchet, you need to recharge," I say, slightly amused when he jumps in shock.

"Gabe, Primus, you startled me," he places a servo to his spark chamber and heaves a sigh. "I'm almost done."

Growling, I move forward and take the rag from his grasp. "You've been working without any recharge for almost two days, Ratchet," I point out, cutting off his protest by picking him up and throwing him over my shoulder. He was a heavy mech but I had size on my side as he gasps then proceeds to complain. "Shut up, Medic. This is for your own good."

"Gabe, put me down!" he snaps, squirming to get away. Smirking, I let the servo that wasn't holding him in place, run up his thigh. He yelps indignantly. "Is that the game you want to play? I can play your game, slag-head!" I nearly drop him as deft servos run up my sensitive wings. "What's wrong? Sensitive?"

I growl darkly and dig one of my slender fingers into his hip seam to press against a senor array. The hitched sound he makes is extremely gratifying and has my interface panel heating quickly. I had planned to do this days go, give him back his payment, but the raid got in the way and it was highly inappropriate for me to take advantage of the Medic while Gene was in dire circumstances so I waited. I was done waiting.

The door to his room swished open softly and I threw the Medic to the bed before following him. My heated panel presses against his as I crawl between his legs, pinning him down with my shear mass alone. He struggles for a second before I pin his arms even as I feel the heat of his panel scortch into mine. He couldn't claim that this little fight wasn't turning on...that or maybe it was being overpowered that revved his engine. Either way, he was heating up fast and I smirked from behind my mask as he went limp.

"Take the mask off if you're going to frag me. I hate it when you guys wear them around me," he snaps but it is a breathless kind of anger that makes my spike ache to be pressurized.

Releasing one of his arms, I reach up and toss the mask to the side table. He takes my minor distraction to lean up and catch my derma in a kiss that makes me growl with pleasure. For someone who hadn't recharged in almost two days, he was lively. My glossa invaded his oral vent in a fight for dominance that was easily won and I devoured his helpless moan. For a rugged old model, he was a tantalizing submissive lover.

My servo runs down to cup his interface panel, groping roughly. "Open," I demand, nipping at his lower derma playfully. I am rewarded as his panel slides away, his spike pressurizing right into my palm. He bucks his hips in a desperate need that slips through my processor and devours my common sense.

His breathless sounds were beautiful and they were eating away at my carefully constructed self-control until I felt that I might just break. I was used to interfacing, it was common for the Drones, but I had never felt so...frenzied and it was frightening and arousing all at the same time. "G-Gabe," he mutters my name, looking down at me because I had paused. "What?"

I shake my head before pressing a finger slowly into his valve, being careful not to rip anything with the talon end. He gasps in pleasured shock as the intrusion spreads his tight valve. "It's been a while," I observe, watching his faceplate. I wanted to drink in his every expression, his every pleasure until I couldn't handle it anymore.

"Y-Yeah," he admits, grabbing onto my arm to steady himself. The loss of control, the beautiful breaking of this calm, level-headed mech was the most appealing thing I had ever seen. The fact that it was me to tear down the delicately constructed walls...indescribable.

Pulling the digit out, I slipped it back in, feeling the walls clench in pleasure. He was already lubricated but if this was the first time he had been penetrated in a while...my girth would hurt him if I wasn't careful. I wasn't bragging; it was just fact. I gently slipped another finger into him, watching his faceplate for any sign of discomfort but there was only blissful desire staring back at me. When he was like this, flushed and incoherent with pleasure, he looked centuries younger and more beautiful than any Cybertronian.

"I-I'm not fragile, Gabe," he stammers, as I let the pads of my fingers rub across a very sensitive node on the inside of his valve.

"What do you want, Ratchet?" I whisper into his audio receptor with my smooth voice. He shuddered in pleasure as I lathe his receptor spine with my glossa. "Tell me."

"Y-You're spike," he responds in a tone of voice that sounds much more innocent than he is.

It was arousing enough to click my panel open without prompting and I pulled my fingers out of him quickly. "You're beautiful, you know that, Ratchet?" I growl in his receptor as I line my spike up to his weeping valve.

"So are you," is all he can utter before I push forward. His back arches taut as I stretch him and I wish I had more than three fingers to work with. I pull back to stare down into his face but instead of pain, I saw nothing but searing, desperate pleasure that stabbed at my spark. "Gabe, more!"

It breaks the last ounce of resolve that I have in me and I slam my hips forward into his. The sound of slamming metal is drowned out his cry of bliss, guttural and heady. It was the perfect sound to harmonize with the melody of our hips snapping together as I thrust into him wanting-needing-him to feel what I was feeling. His fingers claw at my shoulders, desperate for purchase.

Running my servos down his body, I hook my fingers under his knees to pull his legs up around my waist and thrust forward. He lets out a choked off noise as I hit the furthest nodes in his valve. "O-Oh frag!" he moans, lifting his hips so that I can have a better angle to strike that spot over and over again until he is incoherent with pleasure. "Gabe, Primus, please!"

He was close, I could feel the charge passing along his valve walls and through my spike. It sent shudders across my body as his fingers, blunt but strong, dig into my shoulders roughly. My own charge was building and I could feel it across my metal until I was thrusting into him with shallow, sharp thrusts. Ratchet's form gains tension until he finally breaks and he can only sigh in amazement as the overload crashes over his sensors, rippling across his body like a tidal wave.

The beauty of his overload struck me deep and combined with the clenched valve around my spike, I whispered his name as I too fell over the edge. My hips pushed forward a few times more to draw our bliss out before I pulled out and collapsed to the side. My fans were loud in comparison to his and my body was shouting warnings at me so I took in deep breaths of air through my oral vent to level myself out. I honestly couldn't remember any other interface session ever being that...powerful but maybe I was just biased in my affection for Ratchet.

"You're still a slag-head," he mutters, turning to cuddle up to my side.

"Yeah," I affirm, wrapping one arm under his helm and the other around his waist to pull him close. "Tired now?" He mutters a vile oath but is too exhausted to come back with a commendable retort. "Mission accomplished."

"Shut up, Gabriel, or I'll throw you out of my berth," he mumbles even as he is pressing closer to my warm chassis.

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong><span>To be continued...<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this one took a little longer! xD My flash drive broke but thankfully I had an extra backed up on this computer!

Thanks for everyone who commented! I'm so glad everyone's loving the Drones (-Still trying to find a better general word for them! xD) just as much as I do!

Pandablubb: Okay, totally didn't even realize that! xD I love My Little Ponies and I can totally see the resemblance in personalities!

Foxyperv: Dante is an enigma, that's for sure! Though, you caught a little glimpse of him this time! ;D I also love when someone goes into a community that no one really pays attention to! I hope mine does some justice!

Arceeenergon: Since you asked so nicely! :D

I love all yaoi: (-Love your username by the way!) I know Sermin's my baby! ^~^

SethBlackWolf: Yeah, I'm with you! Knockout should be careful! D

Nebula: Yay, paper hearts! o3o It's definitely going to take a while to finish! x3

Red Angry Bird: Thank you! I'm so glad you like it! ;3 I wish I could find someone like Gabriel!

Elita-2: Thank you! :D It's always nice to delve deeper into the oppressed, poor Vehicons and Eradicons! ;3;

Moonlight Black Rose: Ha ha! Harem, it's such a funny word but you're right! Ratchet's a pimp, don't you know? T3T

DemonSurfer: I probably will make it it's own chapter once I'm done with it here! I think Eradicons and Vehicons need more love!

Yamiishot: Right? It's such a fantastic picture!

ConArtist24-7: Hugs to all oppressed vehicons! TT3TT

Okay, now that that's over! xD I hope you all enjoyed it and I can't wait to start on the next part! :D


	26. Bleed Like Me: Part Four

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA

Warnings: Mention of Non-con; Unethical things (you'll understand when you read it)

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"And it's ironic too,<br>'Cause what we tend to do,  
>Is act on what they say,<br>And then it is that way.

And I'm sorry, so sorry.  
>I'm sorry it's like this.<br>I'm sorry, so sorry.  
>I'm sorry we do this."<p>

~ Jem _"They"_

* * *

><p>"Ratchet, really, it's not that bad. I'm ready to go back to work," he tried to reason with me even as I was rushing down the corridor towards the main bridge.<p>

"Shut up, Gene, you're no more ready for action than Puck is for high-class society!" I snap, irritated but not at the grounder. It was good to see the mech at their morning ration time but as soon as I had gotten wind that Gene was scheduled to go out with his team to accompany Knockout on a mission, I had a bone to pick with Megatron. "Go back to your room."

He didn't listen and followed after me until he could catch up enough to grab my arm. "Ratchet, no matter what you do, they're not going to listen," he points out gravely. It only encouraged me to shake his grip off and continue on my way.

"I'll make them listen," I mutter under my breath just as I reach the control room. I don't have to wait long before the door slides open for me; Soundwave was always watching after all. "Lord Megatron."

The hulking mass of a leader turns slowly, curiously gazing down at me. "Ratchet, I don't remember calling you here," he states with a quirked optic ridge.

"You didn't, sir," I say, gritting the word out like it hurt to say. "I've come to ask why my patients are being set out on a mission when they haven't recovered completely yet."

Megatron's optics widen, thoughts rushing through his processor. What did he think I was doing here? I didn't come to grovel at his pedes like he would prefer. "Patients? The drones," he realizes before a nasty smirk crosses his faceplate. "Ratchet, I allowed you to tend them because I just don't have enough grounders as it is. They are healed enough to go on a mission."

He may have dismissed me but I stood my ground. Dreadwing watched me with cold detachment but I could see the slight hint of respect for me to stand up to the mech that had beaten me to near death before. "With all due respect, they will slow Knockout down and be detrimental to your mission," I try to speak to his reason, if it even existed.

He turns with red, hot fury in his optics but Dreadwing is quick to cut off his angry response. "My Lord, the Medic speaks truthfully. Surely, we could fill in the spots of the weak with the able," he explains with his optics staring into his Lord's bravely. Megatron saw Dreadwing as close to an equal as possible and took some time to assess the situation before the tension drained from his body.

"Very well, Ratchet, give Dreadwing a list of Vehicons that are up to the task," he dismisses us both with a frivolous wave of his servo.

Releasing the air through my oral vent, I walked out of the room with the Second-in-Command. "I cannot tell if you are brave or foolish, Medic," Dreadwing comments once we are outside the control room. "However, the fewer drones we lose the better. Shockwave has been running out of material to build them back on Cybertron and we cannot afford to take anymore of his...less-than-adequate models."

I fought the frown. Of course he would be worried more about numbers than the actual Drones. I wanted to scream sometimes when I saw the way the Decepticons treated them. I would think that Megatron, of all mechs, would see the resemblance of this situation to the one that started the war back on Cybertron. He was treating the Drones the same way the upper-class had treated him on our home world; his insanity had all but blinded him to his own actions.

"You don't get to be my age without a little of both," I shrug, hiding my annoyance with the Lieutenant. I pulled out a datapad that I had been allowed after the mission and pulled up the numbers of the six Vehicons that were unable to go into battle. "Here are the numbers of the six that are not battle ready."

He takes the datapad and skims the numbers without really seeing them. "You did all of this for six drones?" he questions with a quirked optic ridge. Sometimes, I thought he and Megatron were the twins.

I cross my arms over my spark chamber. "You forget that until recently, the only thing between Megatron and total victory were six Autobots," I point out seriously. He glances at me with an unreadable expression before handing back the datapad.

"I'll keep your injured drones out of battle for another day," is all he responds with before disappearing back into the control room.

My spark eased back to its normal rhythm and I couldn't help the victorious smile that passed over my faceplate before I started down the hall. I needed to tell Gene to get back into his berth or he'd hurt himself. A small victory, to be sure, but a worthy one nonetheless.

I wasn't surprised to find Gene waiting for me when I opened my door. He slowly rose from my berth with a disbelieving look in his optics. "How did you get them to listen?" he almost whispers in awe.

My derma spread into a slow smirk. "I have my ways. Don't be so surprised," I chuckle, moving to push the mech back onto my berth. "Sit down. I'm going to run a diagnostic to make sure everything's healing properly."

* * *

><p>I sat down on his berth to let him run his tests but my processor was whirling a thousand miles an hour. It was odd to think that Ratchet could talk Megatron into letting me have the day off; it was exciting to have a voice with the higher-ups but..."Ratchet, you didn't have to threaten your life for us again," I whisper, watching as his bright blue optics rose to look at me. "Megatron's..."<p>

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he mutters, reaching up to take my mask off. "I hate it when you guys wear your masks around me."

I can't help the smile that slips across my derma. He would be bothered by something so simple as a mask but only when it stood for something bigger than just hiding our faceplates. It was to make us look the same. It was easier to send a mech to be killed when they didn't look like normal mechs. Humans called it dehumanizing someone to make them easier to get rid of.

We stay silent for a few moments before he pulls the jack out of the port in my arm and steps back. "Well, everything's healing the way it should," he states and I smile slightly. "You need to take it easy, Gene. I got you a day off but if I had my way, you'd be out of commission for a good week."

My optics look up at him in shock. A week of doing nothing? "I would be bored out of my processor," I chuckle lightly, scooting over so he can sit next to me. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't doing something to occupy my time."

"Even in space travel?" he questions curiously, leaning back against the wall casually.

"There's always something that needs to be fixed or cleaned," I point out, leaning back as well. If I didn't need to be anywhere, I'd spend as much of it with Ratchet that I could. Strange how that was true. Before this Medic, I would much rather be spending my time alone in solitude; I liked my silence and my time to think. I still liked those things but...I found myself enjoying the small group's company just as much.

We stay in a comfortable silence for a long time and I revel in it. Ratchet spoke when he had something useful or important to say; he never said meaningless things and didn't mind silence. So many mechs filled silence with babble for one reason or the next. Ratchet knew when to speak and when to be silent; I guessed it had to do with age or maybe it was innate for the Medic. It was comforting too, the silence, but something had been nagging at my processor since I had thrown my lot in with this small band of misfits.

"Ratchet," I speak up once I gather the courage. He glances at me, away from his deep concentration on his servos, and quirks an optic ridge. "I don't care why you left your faction..."

He tensed visibly. "But?" he fills in the void, his smile faltering.

I look at his faceplate silently. "You're not using us, are you?"

His expression shifts from anxious to shocked; I had thrown him off his guard. "What?" he nearly whispers, a look of disbelief twisting the shock.

My own derma purse as if the thought were a terrible taste on my glossa. "Are we just a stepping stone on your way up to becoming a General?" I finally voice my worry. My processor told me that I was a traitor for even mentioning it but...I had to know.

"No! No, Gene! Primus above! Is that what you think?" he rasps, shock clogging his throat.

I shift on the berth to better face the Medic, pinning him with a serious expression. "What is harder to believe, Ratchet? That you are being nice to be nice to us lowly drones or that you are just using us to climb into Megatron's favor?" I ask in all seriousness.

Horror, raw and painful, crosses over his faceplate until my spark pulses strangely. "The fact that you have to ask that...hurts," he whispers, disgusted. "It's hard to think that you cannot trust anyone for fear that they are using you. That...someone being kind to you is harder to conceive than betrayal."

He wasn't hurt by me but...by the thought processes that had been cultivated in my brethren and me. "Kindness is not something we are accustomed to from outsiders," I say, feeling that it was the most obvious thing in the universe. His faceplate twisted in a way that I had seen humans do when they were about to cry but instead, he covered his face with his servos. "Ratchet, it isn't fair but...it's how we live."

"I'm so tired of you guys saying slag like that!" he mutters under his breath with barely contained anger. His faceplate heated and I felt the warmth coming from his form in waves even as I reach out to touch him. I was touched by his rage at our condition but...it was pointless, wasn't it? To brood over something that would probably never be changed was useless.

"This is who we are, Ratchet. Nothing can be done about it so we adapt," I try to explain even as his gaze grows angrier with the seconds. I soften my expression just a bit. "This is the order of things."

He jerks his arm away from my servo and stands off of the berth but doesn't go anywhere. His servos clench into fists until I hear them creak in protest of the stress. "Do you realize how badly you outnumber the Generals, Gene?"

That was blasphemy. "Don't say that," I whisper, looking at the ceiling as if I could truly see Soundwave's cameras. "Soundwave is always watching."

"Four generals against almost seven hundred, Gene," he continued without even a flutter of the optic.

I jump up from the berth, hiding the wince as pain shoots through my abdomen, and grab him by the shoulders. "Stop talking, Ratchet, you're going to get yourself killed," I whisper even as he is brushing my servos away. "We're helping in the war, aren't we? It's enough."

He wheels around, flames licking from his optics. "You don't have any desire for freedom? To do the most basic of things without worry that a general will kill you? To go outside and put your wheels to the road without clearance? Without a reason! You don't want any of that?" he is nearly screaming with anger now. "Sermin has been raped more times than I care to know and you think this life is okay?"

My face heats with my own anger this time. "No, I never said that!" I snap, crossing my arms over my spark chamber defiantly.

"You just said you were okay with this life!" he all but accuses me harshly. "Sermin should be allowed to love who he wants and deny who he doesn't!"

"I agree with you but that's not the lot we've been cast!" I declare weakly. He was right. He was completely right but there was nothing we could do about it. It was pointless to even argue about it. "There's no point in thinking about it!"

"There's always a point in thinking about freedom! I don't understand how this can be done to you when this was the exact same reason the war started centuries ago!" he sighs, losing his angry temper as his energy runs out. He just looks tired as he rubs the space between his optics in frustration.

"Wait," I say, touching his shoulder gently. "Why was this war started?"

He froze then look at me, shocked. "You don't know?" his incredulous look makes me feel a little inadequate but I push past it.

"I've heard stories but they are always different," I answer, watching his faceplate but he wasn't looking down on me. He was just shocked and disgusted that I didn't even know what I was fighting for. I, honestly, hadn't really thought about it; this war had been going on since I was created by Shockwave and history wasn't really in our education. Why hadn't I ever wondered?

"Megatron was once a gladiator in the Pit back on Cybertron. The Pit was a lower-class area where manual laborers worked and then there was the upper-class area that held all of the politicians, medics, lawyers and such. Megatron got tired of being looked down on and abused by the upper-class so he brought together an army of lower-class citizens who became the Decepticons," he explains to me. Slowly, my processor wraps around the information and though it is watered down, I start to understand. "He started this war because his people were looked on as less than citizens...now, he's doing it to you."

My spark pounded against its chamber and I swear I can feel my world flip upside down. It was common knowledge for Ratchet but we were kept in the dark about it. Did Megatron keep the truth from us because he was afraid we would get ideas? Did he truly fear our numbers? No, he didn't know how to feel fear. He didn't think we were smart enough to understand the tactics of war; he didn't think we cared. Truth be told, he probably didn't think we had processors; we were just mindless Drones to him.

I wondered why I hadn't thought of this before. He was right. We outnumbered them 1 to 175, give or take. Megatron also had a small contingent of insecticon by his side as well, which needed to be taken into consideration. They were never on the ship though and were far off unless they were allowed through the ground bridge.

It was as if this new knowledge had unlocked something inside of my coding because a torrent of battle plans flushed through my processor. I never thought of battle plans and tactics before but they just seemed to come so easily; I could see the Nemesis' blueprints and schematics in my processor like it was right in front of me. We all knew this ship like the backs of our servos; we could navigate it better than any of the Generals, especially if we could lure them into this area where they never spent time.

Ratchet was watching me but I couldn't move. So many different plans were forming and then organizing themselves into banks in my processor. I didn't know I had this kind of processor space before but…it was there and unused. "I don't understand what just happened, Ratchet," I whisper softly, the plans still forming even as I spoke.

The Medic grabbed my arm and inserted the jack into my data port again. He was searching for something but I didn't mind the feeling of him searching through my thoughts, my memories. It wasn't like he could find anything there that would incriminate me. They were all pretty basic. Drones didn't have childhoods like Ratchet or Megatron; we were created as adults, fighters. There was no time to grow up; we were needed on the frontlines immediately.

"You're coding has been changed," Ratchet finally explains, surprised. "It's not the same as a few moments ago but…"

"Ratchet?" I question just as he rushes from the room.

"Recharge, I'll be back," he calls before the door closes.

* * *

><p>I had to meet up with the one mech that would know what was going on; he was the only Cybertronian that knew Shockwave. I just hoped that this didn't backfire on me. I had a feeling it wouldn't but Soundwave wasn't the most predictable of mechs, especially on this ship.<p>

The door to the control room was open even before I stood in front of it. Thankfully, Megatron and Dreadwing were off the Nemesis, overseeing some mining areas. Soundwave was the only mech in the control room and I didn't fear walking in, even when the door closed behind me.

"I know you heard the conversation, Soundwave," I say without stalling. The communication's officer wasn't one for small talk and neither was I at the moment. "Shockwave rewrote their coding, didn't he?"

He turns to face me, his face an emotionless mask as usual. "Assumption: Affirmative," he doesn't hesitate in saying.

I hate the way he speaks. "You assumed as much but you weren't certain?" I clarify. He nods. "Does Megatron know?"

"Negative."

I had to be surprised by that. "You've been trying to fix the code, haven't you?" I ask, watching his mask as if I could read his emotions through them.

"Affirmative. Objective: Complete," he states, pressing a button on his console. My voice drifted out, repeating my conversation. "Objective: Unknown."

"I don't quite know either," I admit, staring off to the side. Did I take the Vehicons and unlock all of this coding? Who knew how far this coding went in their processors. Did it just hinder their ability to question Megatron's orders or did it actually keep them from forming battle plans? "I'm still not sure what I said exactly to set this in motion."

He presses something on the console again and a chip pops out of the side. Taking it off, he offers it to me in his long, spidery servo. "Contents: Recording," he monotones and I take the chip, confused.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask, sure there was a plan formulating in his processor. "And will you please speak normally, Soundwave? I'm not an enemy."

For the first time, I see some hesitation in responding. "If my theory is correct," he finally speaks with a normal tone. I was shocked that it was so musical; it was almost like hearing two voices stacked on top of one another. It was a beautiful harmony. "Shockwave created the Drones in a plan to overthrow Megatron once he was ordered to Earth, which wouldn't have been very long now. His failsafe, if I'm correct, is to put certain coding into certain generations."

He paused so I could think his words through. "So," I start slowly. "You think that each generation has a certain…occupation that Shockwave would need in an army?"

"Not just in an army, Ratchet," he comments, gesturing with his servo. It was a little more emotion than I was used to seeing in him but it was welcome. "In a civilization."

I press my servo to my forehead, trying to grasp what was being said. "Are you saying that he planned to repopulate Cybertron with the Drones?" I ask in shock.

"He wants to rebuild and repopulate Cybertron with the Drones," he points out. "The Drones would be so thankful that he opened their optics, so to say, that they wouldn't question him."

My spark pulses in a painful way. "He wants to use them just as Megatron does," I finalize and he nods his helm solemnly. Well, truthfully, I can't tell if he's solemn or not. "Do you have a plan?"

He nodded his helm, running a scan on his computer to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation. "I cannot do anything other than help to cover your trail," he explains easily. "But, I am also tried of this war."

He wanted me to complete the plan Shockwave had set into motion with his coding and overthrow Megatron. "Why?" I can't help but question.

"Megatron's original reason for starting this war was…logical and something I stood behind," he clarifies slowly. "The dark energon has driven Megatron insane. His objective has changed and I no longer agree with it."

It was a pretty standard reason but there was more to it. "You don't agree with the way he treats the Drones either, do you?" I feel myself smirk as he looks to the side.

"I am in charge of the surveillance, Ratchet," he states stoically. "I have seen their personalities. I snuffed enough sparks in the Pits; I do not desire to do that anymore." His tone is completely honest and I am amazed. Should I be, though? Everyone but Megatron seemed to be exhausted of the fighting, the constant war. Even Soundwave, the mech that Megatron had started the Decepticons with was weary. "I am ready for peace."

My spark soothed a little at the tone in his voice. He truly was tired; he truly was ready for a good long rest. In war, no one recharged deeply. There was always the chance of an ambush; there was always the chance that someone would slit your throat. "Me too, Soundwave," I whisper softly.

He nods his helm subtly. "I do not think there is a code word or exact phrase to unlock the code," he gets back down to business. "Shockwave would want to use a vague topic that none of us would be able to think of uttering. It would have to be something taboo, such as the reason why the war started. You are the first to ever tell the Drones why the war started; I don't even think the double-digits know why the war was waged in the first place."

I nod my head in understanding. "So, all I have to do is tell the others how the war started and the code will unlock," I reiterate before smirking. "Then, I had better get started."

Even if I can't see his faceplate, I get the feeling that he's smiling. "Yes, I will do my best to keep Megatron blind. Just be subtle," he warns but I wave my servo dismissively.

"I understand," I say but pause before leaving. "What about Knockout and Dreadwing?"

He glances at me from his computer. "I will deal with them; focus on your Drones," he promises, returning to his computer.

I walk back to my room, running through plans until I open my door. Gene, instead of recharging, had my datapad in his servo and was writing something down. "Shouldn't you be recharging?" I chuckle, walking over to sit beside him.

"Ratchet, something's wrong with my processor," he gives a nervous laugh before showing me the datapad. It had what looked like a servo-drawing of the Nemesis' floor plans and it was very detailed. I took it from him, staring in awe at the impossibly straight lines and the labels. There were several escape routes pointed out and when I flicked to the next screen, I found a battle plan on how to take control of the ship. "I don't know where this came from. It just…popped into my processor along with almost a dozen more!"

My optics scanned through the written plans that would make Prowl proud. "These are…amazing!" I smile, finding a map of the world where he had pinpointed the exact location of the insecticons. VC-303 was his original designation; that must mean the three-hundred-generation were tacticians. "Do you know how many double-digits we have left?"

He looks at me in shock but thinks for a few minutes. "Maybe…fifty, if that," he admits, still confused.

"One-hundred-generation?"

"A little more…seventy? Ratchet, why are you asking me this?" he finally questions, sounding frustrated.

I was doing calculations in my processor but I was a Medic, not a tactician. Then again, I did have one right in front of my faceplate. "Alright, I'll explain everything," I smile softly, watching him relax noticeably. "Okay, you know who Shockwave is, right?"

* * *

><p>Exhausted, I was happy to walk with Puck and Gabriel into the mess hall. Ratchet and Gene were already there, sitting at our table. It was good to see them after the day we had and I couldn't help but want to just sit down at the table without grabbing my energon. Puck's servo pressed between my blades and pushed me forward, somehow sensing my thoughts.<p>

The line was already long but I sighed and surrendered to the inevitable. "You hear the rumor?" the Eradicon, EC-134, in front of us turned to say softly. I wasn't into gossip but Puck was an insatiable gossip monger.

"What?" he asked, completely lost.

"Ratchet got the six injured Vehicons a recovery day!" he states, making me perk up.

"No way!" Puck gasps, looking over at Ratchet and Gene.

"No, it's true!" the Vehicon, VC-1034, in front of the Eradicon claims quietly. "VC-409, one of the injured mechs, is on my team and Dreadwing told him to stay here to recover!"

I watched Ratchet laugh with Gene and felt my spark warm slightly. He was a miracle worker, he had to be. We were lowly Drones; we were sent out injured all the time. Pit, Sermin had worked with his injured arm for almost a month straight and had only been told not to slow the rest of the workers down before he was sent back into the mines. It was hard to believe that he had convinced Megatron to allow the injured Drones a day of recovery but…

"Is it true!" Puck mutters, looking around like an idiot. "Did you have the day off?"

Gene blinks a few times but smirks. "Ratchet got me an extra recovery day," he confirms and I nearly drop my energon cube in shock.

Gabriel catches me easily, helping me to sit down. "How did you manage it?" I can't help but ask. It just seemed so improbable. Did…did he have to do something for Megatron? Something obscene because if that was the case than it wasn't worth it.

Ratchet smirks behind his cube. "Went to talk some sense into him," he tells me confidently.

Gabriel doesn't seem convinced either and leans forward, staring at the mech from behind his mask intently. "What did you have to do for him?" he asks the question that all of us are too afraid to ask. He was forward and blunt but he was more worldly than the rest of us; it was normal for him to think that way.

A small gasp comes from behind us and we turn to find Sermin standing there a look of horror on his faceplate. His servo faltered on his cube but I jumped up to grabbed it so that it wouldn't fall. "Primus, no, Sermin! I didn't have to do anything for him!" Ratchet's confident smirk drops when he understands why we were worried. He stands to move around the table, wrapping an arm around the young Drone. "Dreadwing helped talk some sense into him. No favors were exchanged, I promise."

I set the cube down on the table as Ratchet guided the terrified mech to sit down. He seemed traumatized and I couldn't help the small bit of sympathy that flows through me as I rub his back gently. "It's okay, Sermin," I soothe, feeling the small tremors that rush through his frame.

"I'm sorry," he wavers more than chuckles, staring at his cube. He was folding into himself and I had a feeling there was more to this than what he was letting on. "I'm just…"

"Knockout?" Gabriel speaks up.

Sermin nods his helm and I feel warm hatred rush through my spark. It wasn't a secret that Knockout had taken a liking to the shy, withdrawn miner but it didn't curb the hatred. From where I'm sitting, I can see Ratchet's servos clench under the table and I know he is feeling much the same as I am.

"He asked me to come as well," the hulking mech reveals.

"What?" we all gasp in horror and shock. Knockout had never shown any interest in someone like Gabriel; he liked the shy, submissive Drones and anyone could look at Gabriel and tell he was anything but that!

He doesn't look phased, instead, he reaches out across the table to touch Sermin's servo in a rare show of affection. "I will take care of you," he speaks confidently and I feel Sermin relax under my servo.

I may have eased Sermin's worry but Ratchet was still ramrod straight with tension. Without a word, he stood and walked away despite the others calling after him. "I'll talk to him," I say before downing my energon and following. For someone so bulky, he was fast on his pedes and I had to literally run to catch up with him before he disappeared into his room. "Ratchet!"

I jump when he turns on me but the anger in his optics wasn't for me. "I'm tired of this!" he explodes once the door closed behind me. "Sermin wasn't enough for that slag-head so he has to go to Gabriel? I'm going to dismantle him in his recharge!"

Slipping forward, I place my servos on his shoulders gently. "Ratchet, calm down and think for a second," I soothe, running on servo up to cup his cheek. His faceplate was so hot it almost burned. "Would you rather Sermin go by himself or have Gabriel there with him?"

Ratchet's servos reached up to grab my wrists, surely meaning to rip them from his body but he sighs. The angry energy leaves his form with that vent of air before he slouches in my grasp. "I'd rather they have the choice to say no," he whispers, burying his faceplate in my shoulder. It was a rare show of weakness that made me flush hotly with flattery; he was usually such a strong mech that it was humbling to see this side of him. I didn't look at him less though; everyone needed to breakdown and be sad.

"Me too," I guide the mech to the berth so he can sit down. "But, right now, they don't have that choice. It makes me feel better to know that Gabriel will be able to help Sermin, though."

He pulls away and gives a dry smile. "I need you to listen to something," he changes the subject none too subtly. I allow it, for the moment. It was a depressing subject for all of us. He takes his jack from his chest and connects it to the port on the back of my neck. "This will explain how the war started."

I look at him in shock but look at the wall once his recorded voice filters through my processor. "_Megatron was once a gladiator in the Pit back on Cybertron. The Pit was a lower-class area where manual laborers worked and then there was the upper-class area that held all of the politicians, medics, lawyers and such. Megatron got tired of being looked down on and abused by the upper-class so he brought together an army of lower-class citizens who became the Decepticons…he started this war because his people were looked on as less than citizens...now, he's doing it to you."_

I listened intently but as soon as it was done something…changed. My processor seemed to open up and a wave of knowledge nearly shorted my circuits. Blueprints for upgrades and ways to make the ship better rushed through me until I thought I was going to go into stasis lock. What was all of this…this…information! "Ratchet…what's going on?" I whisper, pressing my servos to the sides of my helm as if it would ease the flow of information.

It was like something inside of me was unlocked and with all of the information came a flow of emotions. They were strong, freely flowing through me. For the first time since I was able to recall…I had a name for the emotion that I felt towards Ratchet. Where had all of these raw emotions come from? Why hadn't I been able to feel this before? Why was all of this locked away until now?

"It'll stop in a moment," he soothes, taking the jack from the back of my neck. "This information has been locked in a section of your processor since your creation."

My coding had been tampered with even before my spark had been ignited in my form. All of the possibilities ran through my processor then all of the moral implications; all of the reasons why it was wrong suddenly flushed my thoughts. The Code of Ethics, a book that, somehow, I felt like I had memorized, started rushing through my thoughts. "This is wrong," I mumble more to myself than to anyone else. "It's hacking into a living being's thought processes and functions and making them into something they aren't. They turn into a-a-"

"Drone."

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: First off, sorry this took longer than normal! xD I have two part time jobs coming up so they might take a bit longer than normal! Second, I haven't re-read this one yet and I'll probably do that later but I just wanted to get it up as soon as possible so please excuse any of the typos!

One thing: Shades of Grey, I would be honored if you wrote some stories using my characters! I only ask that you send me a link here or on Deviantart with my username ~bells-of-gold so that I can read them when you're done! :D I cannot wait to read them!

Thank you so much for everyone who commented! I love hearing your thoughts and I want you to know a lot of them I take into consideration! Sometimes, if I read something, an idea or thought, that I like, I might put it into the story! ;D I try to give that person credit and if I don't then just message me and as me if that was you! I forget a lot!

I hope you enjoyed! :D


	27. Bleed Like Me: Part Five

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Non-Con Mentioned; Sexual Content; Violence

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"It's true, we're all a little insane.<br>But it's so clear,  
>Now that I'm unchained.<p>

Fear is only in our minds,  
>Taking over all the time.<br>Fear is only in our minds  
>but it's taking over all the time."<p>

~ Evanescence _"Sweet Sacrifice"_

* * *

><p>It was as if a floodgate had opened and I couldn't contain all of the information or the emotions. The emotions were more surprising than the information, truthfully. I could understand the schematics of Cybertronian aircrafts, the blueprints of upgrades, how to mount weapons on an Eradicon's arm and the other various things. The anger, raw, like sandpaper against my spark, was hard to handle.<p>

It was strange and somehow soothing to be able to know that I was angry at my situation. I was angry at Shockwave for doing this to us; I was angry at Megatron for his mistreatment of my brethren; and I was furious at Knockout for what he did to Sermin and was about to do to Gabriel. My spark pulsed with the anger but I slowly let it pass through me as I glanced at Ratchet.

A new emotion filtered through my spark and this one, though raw, was warm. I touched my spark chamber, confused. I had been angry before, a lighter, more controllable version but I knew the name of it. This one…I had never felt before; it was much stronger than respect or simple admiration.

I was going to ask about it just as the door opened, allowing Puck to enter the room. "You guys doing okay?" my friend asks, walking over to wrap his arm across my shoulders. He took one look at my faceplate and paused. "You're…different, somehow."

My faceplate spread into a smile before I looked at Ratchet. "Come here, I have something for you to listen to," the Medic tells Puck.

It was interesting to see the change happen in someone else. The shift showed up first in the optics. There was something unlocked and the look of realization was obvious; then it was in the body posture. Puck winced, pressing his servos to the side of his helm as if it hurt but I knew what he was feeling. It was the sudden rush of information; the sudden explosion of emotions that flooded his system and made him more worldly.

"This is…" he pauses to groan in pain. "Amazing. Painful, but amazing." I reach out to take my friend's servo, feeling the way it trembled in the flush of power. There was something…intoxicating about being able to feel freely without some unknown code keeping it locked away. "How did you do that?"

Ratchet easily takes out a chip from his subspace and offers it to me. "This is the recording I just let you listen to," he smiles softly. "Let the others hear this, descretely, please. Tell them it's a new human song or something. Just don't say what it truly is."

"What do we do afterwards?" I question curiously.

He smirks. "You send them to me."

* * *

><p>My pace was a little faster than usual as I went from Knockout's berthroom to Ratchet's. Sermin was in my arms, babbling on about something incoherent, which was the reason for my hurried stride. If I wasn't afraid of what Knockout would do to Sermin, I would have fought when the hack offered that energon to the young miner. Had it been another Vehicon or Eradicon, I would have fought but for some reason, I couldn't fight Knockout. My pedes remained rooted…through everything.<p>

My processor locked away the memories of how we were treated by the sadistic doctor and I focused, instead, on getting Sermin to Ratchet's room. He would know what to do…he had to. Sermin was acting strange and his body was so hot it was burning my arms; the pain barely registered on my processor though as I continued on.

I didn't even bother knocking on the door and walked in to find Ratchet sitting up, seemingly waiting for us. "Ratchet, there's something wrong with him," I pant, watching the mech stand from his berth to rush over. "Knockout slipped him something. I don't know what it was."

"Set him on the berth," he commands calmly. Doing as I was told, gently lying the muttering mech on the berth; I moved away so that Ratchet hover over the miner. "I figured as much." He touches Sermin's forehead then his spark chamber then to my shock his interface panel. "Knockout slipped him a strong aphrodisiac; it raises a mech's ability to have multiple overloads. The problem is that the charge can do a lot of damage if overload isn't achieved."

My spark pulsed as Sermin bucked into Ratchet's servo, mumbling something desperately. "He only had one overload," I admit sadly. I was at least able to give him that much before Knockout had taken over.

"That's definitely not enough," Ratchet mutters, sounding irritated. I knew it wasn't towards me so I snorted softly in distain. "I can handle this. Go on to recharge."

I took my mask off and set it to the side, glad that Knockout hadn't asked me to do as much. "No, I'll help," I offered with a sad smile.

Ratchet looked up at me with a small amount of flush on his cheeks before nodding, sitting the young mech up so that he could sit behind him. Sermin moaned at the contact as Ratchet ran his servos down his form; he made a trail down the spark chamber, the abdomen, skimmed the interface panel and thighs before he let his servos hooked under his legs. Ratchet bent and spread the miner's legs as I crawled up onto the berth.

It was a view that had my internals warming. Ratchet's derma closed on one of the young miner's neck cables, drawing out a wanton sound but his optics were focused on me. It was the mixture of that intense gaze and the submissive position of Sermin that made me lower forward to draw my glossa across the hot interface panel offered. The miner tried to buck into the touch, gasping sweetly, but Ratchet's hold was iron and kept him still for me.

That one graze was all it took for the panel to click open, his spike pressurizing quickly and his valve dripping with lubricants. I ran my glossa up the mech's spike along the underside to the sensitive tip before closing my mouth around it. He whined desperately, squirming in Ratchet's grasp as I drew deeply on the sensitive metal.

My own interface panel was aching to open but I kept myself under control; this was about Sermin, for now. I lowered my mouth around his full length at the same time that I pressed two fingers into his valve. Knockout had already stretched him so he was ready for it and the sound of pleasure was enough of an encouragement.

Ratchet's denta and glossa worshiped the sensitive neck cables, his servos spreading the mech's legs further for me. I slowly bobbed my head along the miner's spike, thrusting my fingers into his valve at the same tempo until he begged for more. It was a sweet word and it shocked me that only four words could burn in my interface panel.

"More!" Sermin gasps and I press another finger into his valve. His head snapped back to lie on Ratchet's shoulder as his vocalizer glitches. "O-Oh!"

Ratchet smirks down at me as his servos set the mech's pedes down so he could reach down at take over his spike. I lowered down a little further and ran my glossa over the rim of the miner's valve. Sermin's vocalizations were incoherent and his hips bucked into our touches even as I take out one finger. His groan was barely out when my glossa pressed in to take my digit's place; flicking at a bundle of nodes.

"Overload for us, Sermin," I hear Ratchet whisper into the mech's audio receptor.

Sermin's vocalizer releases a burst of static right as his hips jerk up and he spills his transfluid. I pull away when a rush of lubricants coats my servo. "Flip him over," I say softly, opening my interface panel to rub the lubricants on my pressurized spike.

Ratchet guides the miner to his servos and knees, his valve looking delicious in the soft light. Ratchet kissed Sermin deeply and I was a little jealous that I couldn't do the same to both but I figured that could come later. I watched them kiss for a few moments before I slipped my spike into the miner's slick valve. He moans into Ratchet's mouth and I can't help the groan of pleasure as warm, wet heat wraps around my aching spike.

The miner presses back against my spike, taking me with wanton pleasure and I can't help but start a steady, hard rhythm. I wanted to make sure that Sermin felt every inch of my ribbed spike in his sensitized valve. Leaning over him, I brush my derma across his audio receptor softly. "Why don't you put that talented mouth to good use?" I lull to him, dipping my voice low. He pants softly but leans down to run his glossa across Ratchet's closed panel. "Open up for him, Ratchet."

Ratchet's blue optics smoldered my spark in pleasure but I hear the tell-tale click of his panel. Then, his optics grow hazy as Sermin's mouth goes to work. I had no idea Sermin was so good with his mouth until Knockout commanded him to do this exact thing to me not but an hour earlier. Knockout claimed that he had taught the miner everything but I doubted the doctor was this good at anything where interface was involved. He was selfish where Sermin genuinely wanted to give pleasure to his partners and it made all the difference in the universe.

Thrusting forward, I sped up, driven by the raw pleasure in Ratchet's optics until I felt my charge building. Even with one overload tonight, I was spurred on by the beautiful sight of Sermin pleasuring Ratchet until the Medic groaned with bliss. Oh Primus, that was beautiful. I slammed forward, smirking as Sermin had to pull away from Ratchet to scream my name.

Leaning forward, I reach under the mech to stroke his spike, feeling the charge race through his valve right before he falls into overload again. His valve clenches around my spike like a vise and I grit my denta as pleasure washes over me. It took barely two thrusts before I joined him in overload.

It was a strange mixture of pleasure and pain that drove the heat through my body even as I overloaded for the third time tonight. Thankfully, I was a little more coherent now that most of the charge had been dispelled but I was still aching. "Ratchet…it hurts," I whisper through gritted denta as Gabriel pulls out leaving me feeling empty.

"It's okay," he whispers gently, kissing my forehead. His servos pull me closer until I am straddling him. "One more should be enough."

I gasp at the feel of his spike's tip brushing over my valve and my charge starts to build again. Desperate, my body moves on its own, lowering myself down on his spike in one stroke. He groans in pleasure as my valve wraps around his spike and I can't help but roll my hips. His derma bury in my neck cables, his arms wrapping around my waist to pull me close. It was the most intimately I have ever been held and it spurs me to move faster.

Thankfully, the aphrodisiac makes it easier for me to overload so it doesn't take long for my overload to build. My hips jerk and Ratchet's servos press me back until I'm on my back so he can take control. A scream escapes my derma as my charge builds until I can't handle it and buck into his thrusts to get his spike to hit that bundle of nodes at the back of my valve. With a few hits to that I fall into a mess of shuddering metal, whimpering his name softly.

I see white when he overloads, his transfluid washing over my charged nodes to intensify my pleasure. I fluttered my optics offline and sit there for a while, even after he pulls away. The fog that had descended over my processor slowly cleared and exhaustion was left in its wake.

"Is he okay?" I hear Gabe's smooth voice asks softly. He sounded tired too.

Ratchet chuckles, someone's servos picking me up. "He'll be fine." I felt a warm body move behind my back and couldn't help humming in appreciation before recharge starts to claim me. I know I shouldn't feel so good after being used by Knockout but…Gabriel and Ratchet made it all better. Someday, I would tell Knockout that a Drone and an old model were better than him…someday…

* * *

><p>The berth was small but if the three of us settled back to front it was actually pretty comfortable. I couldn't help but smile as I slowly wake up to find us still in that position. Gabe was behind me with his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, his faceplate buried in my neck cables. I had my own arm wrapped loosely around Sermin's waist, servo resting on his spark chamber that pulsed lazily in his recharge.<p>

I had never been with more than one lover at a time but I found that it was pretty easy once you got the hang of it. Pit, that was a lie. It was one of the sexiest things I'd ever been apart of and I wouldn't mind doing it again. Was this taking advantage of them? Both were completely willing, I knew this, but was I taking advantage of their vulnerability?

No. I honestly couldn't find any guilt about what I had done with the two of them last night. If I hadn't helped Sermin…I had often seen what Knockout's serums could do to mechs and femmes alike. It was one of his torture methods that drove a lot of 'bots insane long before they confessed. Knockout's irresponsibility at leaving Sermin with that concoction in his system was…unforgivable.

My servo clenched into a fist but I relaxed when Gabe stirred. "You okay?" he whispers softly in that smooth as silk vocalizer. The worry in his voice was beautiful.

I held his arm in place, just a few more moments. "Yes," I respond just as quietly. "Just…thinking."

"Mm," the mech hums easily, pressing his derma against my neck cables. It was a rare show of affection that warmed my spark. "What did you do to Gene? He was different last night."

"Once Sermin wakes up, I'll tell you," I promise. "For now, let me enjoy the warmth."

He chuckles, a deep, smooth reverberation through my chassis, and holds me tighter. "You could enjoy a different warmth," he lulls into my audio receptor.

"Where do you get your stamina? Really!" I laugh nervously, feeling the heat of his body. "You overloaded multiple times last night!"

He shrugs his shoulders casually. "I'll always be ready for another round with you," he teases suggestively. It was probably as close to an admission of affection that I would ever get and it was flattering.

It doesn't surprise me when the door slips open to allow the other three of our group into my room. "Good morning, rise and-" Puck stops in his happy greeting when he sees us. "Oh boy! Sorry to interrupt!"

"Knock next time," Gabe smirks, running his fingers across my interface panel.

"Gabe!" I yelp, trying to pull his servo away by sitting up even as Puck nearly falls over laughing. "Primus above!" Who knew the serious, stoic mech could be such a pervert?

Sermin stretched out, yawning, and then froze when he fluttered his optics online to see everyone in the room. "Good morning!" he smiles brightly, his adorable faceplate lighting up. It didn't seem to phase him that he had been caught with two other mechs in the same berth.

The others understood though.

Puck elbowed his best friend with a disturbing expression on his faceplate. "Man, it make you jealous that you and I haven't even gotten a kiss from Ratchet?" he asks Dante who flushes and looks away. Puck's smirk dropped in realization. "Wait, I'm the only one?"

"I haven't," Gene offers up with a slight smirk.

Puck looked around at the Vehicon. "You're pretty much asexual, dude!" he snaps playfully. Gene doesn't even refute the accusation and shrugs casually. "Oh no, I'm not being the only one!"

He stomps forward and Sermin chuckles as she ducks down to dodge as the Eradicon dives forward. I try not to pull away as the kiss connects, his servo hooking behind my helm to hold me in place. It was heady and full of spicy heat as his glossa teased mine; it didn't help that Sermin was laughing, egging the kiss on. Gabe's hard form was behind me, making sure I couldn't go anywhere and I was sure that was his servo creeping across my side.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Puck let me breathe and I couldn't help but flush as a round of cheering went up. Puck, well named, took a theatrical bow to his fans before smirking down at me. "You want more? You know how to find me," he winks playfully, making me roll my optics.

Drama Queen.

"I hate to break up your fun and games," Gabe says from behind me, his servos resting on my hips. "You said you would explain."

"Oh yes, that," I chuckle, sitting up as Sermin looks at me curiously. "Don't worry, all will be explained. Dante…the chip."

* * *

><p>The ambush wasn't expected but I was glad my team was stationed at the mouth of the mine. Sermin was in there and with the unlocking of my code, something, truthfully, I didn't fully understand, a deep protective instinct for the youth took refuge in my spark and stayed. It was frightening at first because it didn't just pertain to the miner but to the small group we had formed. They were my friends and my spark hurt when I thought about losing them.<p>

The Autobots were getting desperate for energon, it seemed, and I was glad that my team, along with a few others, were here. _"Puck, Dante, take Arcee,"_ Gene was communicating through our newly opened comm.-links. He was giving out orders; it seemed that his unlocked coding was that of a tactician and a good one at that. He was getting the feed through my recordings that I took with my optics and sent to him. _"Take out her wheels. 501, get some altitude and provide cover fire. 065 take Bumblebee. Gabe take Bulkhead and give him one for me."_

"_Copy that," _I smirk as I drop from the sky.

I unfolded into my bipedal form midair and crashed, pedes first, into Bulkhead's spark chamber. He was easy to throw off balance and I jumped off him before his servos could wrap around my ankles. Rolling, I stopped in a crouch and used my position to launch an attack at his legs. Calculations were going off in my processor even before my arms wrapped around his stubby legs.

He was exceedingly top heavy so I had to be careful that he didn't topple right on top of my smaller body. Using my momentum, I swung my legs around so that I slid right out from under his falling body. I wasn't even sure how I had ended crouched at his pedes when he fell like a ton of bricks but I didn't waste any time. My cannon hummed with life as I prepared the kill shot.

"Captain!" I heard my title shouted just as my vision went white with burning agony. My shoulder had just been shot and I barely got my optics back online before I was dodging to the side. The shot just barely grazed by my side as I tucked, rolled and transformed to get some distance.

The Prime was taking aim at me again so I quickly dropped to dodge. _"Where's my cover fire?"_ I shout through the comm.-link just as a well placed shot busts through the tri-colored mech's shoulder.

"_Sorry, sir, perfection takes time,"_ 501 responds and I can almost see his smirk.

"_Gabriel, are you hurt?"_ I heard Sermin's voice ask over our comm.-link.

"_It's just a…"_ I mean to say scratch just as another shot rushed past my left wing. _"Later, Sermin, I'm good for now."_

I watched for a second deciding that the Autobots were waging a losing battle. We Drones were no longer cannon fodder but actual warriors with a great tactician. Gene was well suited for the job as I was suited for the battlefield. Solutions to fights just seemed to pop into my helm and for some reason…my body knew exactly what to do; I still shocked myself with how much I could do.

"_Gabriel, you need to take out Optimus. He's your biggest opponent," _Gene advises, before firing off a few more orders to the others. _"His shoulder is weak but I'd advise giving a wound to his leg."_

"_You got it, Gene,"_ I smirk before dive-bombing the giant Prime. He was fighting with several other Eradicons who were just trying to hold their positions. They weren't double digits so they weren't fit for battling the huge mech like I was. I wasn't anywhere near his size but my processor was already offering me several scenarios.

I kept my flight pattern as quiet as possible and the others distracted the Prime so that by the time I was transforming into my bipedal mode, it was too late. He grunted as I landed on his back, digging my sharp talons into his injured shoulder. He was strong and tried to shrug me off but I let myself drop, dragging my claws down until I could get at his legs.

With a simple rip to his unprotected knee joint, he went down. My roar of triumph was short lived as I had to jump back to avoid Arcee's small fist. Bumblebee was next to protect their beloved Prime but we could all see the battle was done as they hauled the injured mech through a sudden ground bridge.

I held back, the others following suit. What was the point? That leg wound, without a proper Medic, would take weeks to heal. It gave us plenty of time to do as we wanted; perhaps, Megatron would be sated with this victory even though he, nor his Generals were here to see it.

"Gabriel!" I heard a familiar voice call as I sat down to take a well-deserved rest. Sermin was on me in a second, his thin arms wrapping around my neck in a desperate hug. A faint smile crossed my faceplate as I returned the gesture, gently pressing my servos to the curve of his back. "Here, let me see that."

Sermin turned out to be a Medic, which fit the young mech. He was slaggin' good at it too as he looked at my injured shoulder and proceeded with his work. For the first time, he was completely confident in himself and his servos didn't flinch once as he fixed a broken energon line. Come to find out, Medics in the Drone ranks came with the same tools that Ratchet did but they couldn't access them in their servos until the coding was unlocked. They weren't even aware of the tools until the code was broken.

"_Hurry with those repairs," _Gene warns through the comm.-link. _"Megatron and Dreadwing are on their way. ETA: Five Minutes."_

"_Done,"_ Sermin states proudly, pulling away from the shoulder. It wasn't completely fixed, we would need some scrap metal to cover the burned hole but it was tolerable for now. "I have to go back."

He looked around for a second before leaning forward to nuzzle his mask to mine in a sort of kiss. It was a sweet gesture. "Thank you," I tell him as he rushes off. "Back to your posts!"

Megatron and Dreadwing touched down before the mine's entrance, looking around in shock. "You!" he said, pointing at me. I was the biggest, thus I was the leader. "Where are the Autobots?"

"Sir, they retreated," I say with a proper salute.

He blinked, totally dumbfounded for the first time, ever. "Has Knockout been here? Soundwave? Ratchet?" he asks, obviously finding it hard to believe that any of us could do the deed.

We all did a good job at keeping ourselves from bristling in indignation. We were well trained, I guess. "No sir," is all I respond with. My voice was even and without any hint of the anger boiling just under the surface. What I wouldn't give to take him down, right now.

"_Stay calm, Gabe," _Sermin soothes through the comm.-link.

"_We'll have our chance,"_ Dante promises.

"_They'll see what we can do after we shove their pompous attitudes up their exhaust pipes,"_ Puck laughs like a maniac.

Their comforting words helped me to rein in my anger. I would save it…for later. I had big plans for Megatron…and Knockout. They would both pay for the depravity of what we had to deal with.

"Why did they retreat?" Megatron finally asks, seeming a little amused by all of this. "Did they get what they wanted?"

"No sir," I say politely. "Optimus Prime was injured and they retreated, sir."

Megatron's amused expression changed to one of outrage. "Who dared touch the Prime? Haven't I made it perfectly clear that he was mine to deal with?" he roars, looking at all of us individually. Looking at? No, he was looking through us. We were toys to him; pawns to be used in his sick game of chess.

I do not hesitate in stepping forward one stride. "It was I, sir."

Even though I was expecting it, the punch still hurt like slag. He had a killer right hook and I fell back to the ground with a heavy thud. My mask cracked down the middle with spider web-like slits until the glass was falling away as I sat up slowly. "How dare you!" he growls, pressing his pede to my spark chamber. He pushed me down until I was effectively pinned.

"_Fight back!"_ Puck shouts at me through the comm.-link.

I can't see them in my peripheral vision because of the damaged mask but I didn't think they had moved. _"Don't react," _I command harshly, staring up at Megatron through my broken mask.

"The Prime is mine, drone!" he continues his rampage, pressing further against my spark chamber until I hear a crack. "You have over stepped your boundaries!"

"Please, stop!" I hear a familiar voice shout just as a shape grabs hold of Megatron's arm. "He didn't kill the Prime, just injured! Have mercy!"

I angled my head so that I could see through the small lacework cracks and found Dante holding onto our Lord. Idiot, he was such an idiot. Instead of anger, though, Megatron looked down at the mech with subtle interest. "You care for your Captain?" he asks and we all know it is a loaded question.

"He has saved my spark plenty of times, My Lord," Dante responds, pulling away to stand just a step back. He had successfully taken Megatron's attention from me but…I would rather have him focused on me. I was much more durable than Dante was. "He is well-seasoned and a great asset to your army."

Logic, that was what he chose to fight with?

My spark clenched as Megatron's servo reached out to touch Dante's mask. "Take your mask off, drone," he commands, leaving no room for argument. Dante doesn't hesitate to show his faceplate, which though ordinary had its charms. He was a handsome mech but it was his personality, his intelligence and empathy, that made him truly attractive.

"Would you take your Captain's place if I were to offer a different kind of payment for the wrong done today?" he asks, touching the Eradicon's chin lightly with his dangerous talons.

I wanted to protest but Dante answered before I could. "Yes, sir."

Megatron's grin was the ugliest thing I had ever seen on any other creature and I couldn't help the anger that welled up in my spark. Like energon from a cut line, my anger started to soak through my entire body until I couldn't feel anything else. I was trembling with anger, which was good because Megatron probably thought it was from fear.

His optics flashed with unrestrained lust. "Tonight then," he instructs before walking away.

Dreadwing followed him as he transformed and left.

"Why did you do that, you slag-head?" I roar with anger, letting it all out at once. I wished I could unleash it on the creature that had cause it; I wanted to rip Megatron limb-from-limb in front of Primus and everyone for what he had done…what he would do…

Dante doesn't even flinch as Sermin rushes from the mine again to push me back to the ground gently. "I saved your sorry aft," he mumbles but I am too angry to care.

"He wouldn't have killed me!"

"What if he had?" Dante shouted back, his faceplate red with anger and mortification. I could see the fear in his optics and it diminished my anger to tolerable levels again. "We can't lose you, Gabe! You are the strongest of us all! You are the only one who keeps us together!"

I wince as Sermin pulls something tender but don't make a sound. "Dante, he's going to…" I cut myself off, thinking of my own night with Knockout. If Knockout was bad…what would it be like with Megatron? His last lover, Starscream, had defected and-

Looking up, I suddenly see the similarities. How could I not see it sooner? Dante had a similar if not the exact same faceplate design as our previous First Lieutenant. "I'll be fine," Dante interrupts my thoughts. His servo was gentle on my arm. "And please, let's not tell Ratchet."

"Not tell-are you insane?" Puck nearly screams, the high pitch his voice hit hurting my audio receptors. "He'll have all of our sparks!"

"Please," Dante whispers softly, looking to the side. "I just don't want him to worry."

* * *

><p>I had a bad feeling about this.<p>

Megatron was as unpredictable as any mech but why would he want me to come to his berthroom? The only hint I got was that he wanted a private conversation that wasn't for anyone else's audio receptors. Okay, that's fine but if he was going to offer me a spot in his Generals…not for all the credits on Cybertron.

Would I have much of a choice? Probably not and it frustrated me. I may have left the Autobots but at least I had a voice with them. Not that I would go back, not in a million years. Not after what Optimus made me do.

Stopping, I looked up at the tall, ordinary door that led into Megatron's personal chambers. Wherever this led, wherever I went from here…I at least knew that I had done some good with the Drones. Most of them had their rightful coding and the others were almost done with the rest of the large army. Megatron would never know what hit him once we struck out on our assault.

My confidence renewed, I knocked on the door. "Enter," Megatron's deep, dangerous voice drifts out.

I opened the door and walked in with my head held high. "You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask, noting that the mech was on the couch, reclined like this was a normal encounter with a friend. He had a cube of high grade in his servo and looked up at me as I spoke.

"Oh yes, thank you for coming," he states with a sarcastic kind of politeness. Dread starts to creep into my spark but I push it back. I would not show fear to this mech, not an ounce. "I need your help with something."

My shoulders grow tense but I cross my arms to hide it. "Alright," I drawl, suspicious.

He straightens off of the couch, towering over me so easily, before gesturing for me to follow. The path to his berthroom was a dangerous one but I pushed my legs forward. His bulk blocked my view as he took up most of the doorway; he seemed in no hurry. "I was wondering if you could help me with this," he says with a strange tone of voice before moving to the side.

"What do you…" my words die on my glossa. "Oh Primus…"

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Man, this came out like a damn torrent! I love this story so much and, sadly, I'm pretty close to finishing it! D: I really don't want to but there are at least another two parts before the end! ;D So we've got about another 10,000 words to go yet!

Master of Grey: I'm sorry I messed your name up! xD I'm a spaz! I can't wait to read them! And damn you were really close to guessing what all of them would be! I'll explain what Puck is in the next chapter but you got most of them right! Good job!

Akira Alvina: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it so much! This chapter, I hope, was centered enough on the Drone's skills for you! I do put a lot of emphasis on Ratchet when explaining things so I'll try to move away from that in the next chapter if I can!

CrazyNutSquirrel: I love your username by the way! xD If you ever post your Drone story I'd love to read it! I'm so glad you enjoy my story so much! It's such a great feeling! :D

Okay, so nasty cliffhanger and I start my part-time job tonight! T3T Oh well, I'll still work on it!

I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!


	28. Bleed Like Me: Part Six

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Non-con, Sexual situations, Violence

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"Why must we fall apart to understand how to fly?<br>I will find a way.  
>Even without wings.<br>Follow your heart,  
>'Til it bleeds,<br>As we run towards the end of the dream."

~ Evanescence _"End of the Dream"_

* * *

><p>"You like my artwork?" he smirks, going over to another chair to sit. He sipped at his high grade, settling back to enjoy the macabre scene before him.<p>

Artwork. That's what he called this…disgusting image that I would never be able to purge from my memory. The smell of spilt energon was the first thing that assaulted my senses as soon as I walked through the door. It drew my optics to the berth where a chain was suspended from a hook above it; my gaze ran down the length until I found it connected to a pair of stasis cuffs that held up an unconscious mech.

"Dante," I breathe in horror.

"Dante?" Megatron chuckles darkly. "That's a lot easier than his number."

I stay where I am, fighting to rush forward to the unconscious mech. "Yeah, it is," I say so softly I'm afraid I just thought it. Energon dripped down the black and purple metal, pooling on the berth below him. His mask was off and I could see it hadn't been touched. "Would you like me to handle this?"

Megatron quirked an optic ridge. "In a manner of speaking," he chuckles, the sound running down my spinal struts like ice. I tear my optics away from the sight before me to see the lecherous glint in the warlord's faceplate. Dread made my fuel tanks churn. "Go on, I don't do foreplay and I don't want to rip his valve."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," I mutter, hearing a small noise as Dante shifts. A small groan almost pulled my optics away from the warlord but I held fast.

He slouched, crossing his legs over one another. "Do I have to spell it out for you, Medic?" he asks with a mocking expression. "Don't make me tell you twice."

I heard the warning; I understood what I had to do. So, I climbed up onto the berth, touching the mech's faceplate with my fingers. "Dante?" I whisper gently, trying to wake him up fully.

"R-Ratchet?" he responds, vocalizer rough from screaming. "It hurts."

"Shush," I touch his derma with my fingers. "It's not over yet but…" His sobbed breath was physically painful. "I'm going to be right here."

His optics were dim but he looked up at me and I saw hope there. "You?"

"Yeah, you trust me right?" I chuckle, trying to sound playful but ending up sounding dry.

He nods his head. _"I'd rather it be you than him,"_ he whispers over comm.-link. I could hear the pain in his tone but I could also hear the relief that relaxed his form until he was leaning his helm on my shoulder. His trust in me was flattering but worrying; I had never had someone hold so much faith in me before.

Pulling away just a bit, I cup the mechs' faceplate with both servos before leaning forward. His derma were quivering with exhaustion and pain as they brushed across mine so I kissed him gently. He was slow to respond but when he pushed back, my spark pulsed. His glossa had a slight hint of energon but it was overwhelmed by heat and electricity.

I wrapped my arms around his waist to pull him against my body. He tried to struggle away but the energon didn't bother me; I let it stain my chassis so he wouldn't feel so self-conscious. My servos drift across his back gently, trying to keep from hurting his sensitive scratches. I could tell they were from Megatron's deadly talons but I skimmed past them to the other seams.

His first gasp of surprised pleasure was accompanied with a quick rise in his body temperature. I did everything, touched every seam, plucked every wire so that he would feel more pleasure than pain and completely forgot about Megatron for a moment. He moaned as my derma slipped down to tease his neck cables, drawing out as much pleasure as I could.

I lowered down until I was sitting on the berth, swirling my glossa in the sensitive hip-seam. The taste of energon was disturbing but I pushed past it to pleasure the mech. My fingers grazed his hot panel and he bucked into the touch without thinking. "R-Ratchet," he whispers softly. It was beautiful to hear pleasure instead of pain coming from the mech.

"Open up," I smile, running my slick glossa across the seal of the panel. It opened with a soft sound, his spike pressurizing and lubricant slipping down his thighs. His whole body was trembling but it was in pleasure, not pain, and I wanted to hear him scream my name. _"You're so beautiful,"_ I tell him through our comm.-link. I didn't want Megatron to know just how close they were.

"Get on with it, Medic," speak of the Devil. I didn't even look back at the mech to know he was smirking. How I wanted to rip his spark out for making Dante do this.

I slowly spread the mech's legs by his thighs and heard him whimper as my servos slipped up along his sensitive metal. He made a beautiful noise when my finger eased into his tight valve. My own panel was burning to be opened but I kept it closed; this was about Dante, not me.

His sounds were close to mewls as I thrust my finger into his valve, striking nodes and sensors as I went. My glossa teased his spike until he was straining against his chains desperately. "Ratchet, please!" he whimpers, bucking against my finger until I press another into his valve.

His gasped vents made my panel alert me that it was ready but I couldn't. Any other time and I wouldn't have hesitated to press my spike into his valve. Primus, did I want to show him how a true mech interfaced. _"Next time,"_ I rasped over our comm.-link. _"I'm going to take you nice and slow until you can't see straight."_

"Primus!" he gasps just as I slip another finger into his valve. There is a slight hint of pain on his faceplate but it slowly drains away until he is pressing into my fingers again.

"That's good enough," Megatron's voice booms through the space. He stood as I took my fingers from Dante's valve, taking up the space behind the young mech. The look of fear and pain that crossed my friend's faceplate was…poisonous and made my fuel tanks churn in disgust. "You are dismissed to my living room. I'll be done shortly."

Dante wanted to object but kept his derma tightly sealed even when Megatron's sharp claws revisited old wounds. Obedient as always, I left the room. I didn't want to hear Megatron abuse my friend but I sat outside on the couch anyways, careful to keep the energon from dripping on the furniture. _"I'm right here, Dante,"_ I whisper through the comm.-link.

The first scream should have been the hardest but every one after that hurt just as badly. I wanted to turn my audio receptors off, block out the pain of my friend. No, I would hear every second of it. It would be a constant reminder of what I had to accomplish-what we had to accomplish. I couldn't let this go on any longer. The Decepticons were worse than dirt. And I had my own army, complete with a spy, to compete with.

Finally, it stopped.

I checked my internal clock and found that it had taken less than ten minutes. My body stood as the door opened, showing the quick draw himself. "Get him out of my sight," is all he said before disappearing into his wash racks.

* * *

><p>Pain wasn't rare when you were an Eradicon but this was a different kind of ache. It was a physical pain mixed with one that ate at my processor. It didn't help that the procedure to check the integrity of my valve didn't help my mental integrity. I was heavily embarrassed when I was carried bodily into Ratchet's makeshift infirmary and laid across one of the berths.<p>

"Don't squirm, Dante," the Medic tells me before I hear the door open.

"I came as quick as I could," Sermin's voice states as he comes into my peripheral vision. "Oh, Dante." His sympathy was more welcome than I had originally thought it would be. He knew what I was going through; he more than most others understood what being a berth-toy meant. "You don't okay?" he soothes, touching my servo.

I wrap my fingers around his and hold tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't fully understand until now," I say with a voice that sounds rough and ragged from screaming. His optics flash with a sadness so deep it hurts.

He strokes my servo gently. "I had hoped no one else would have to fully understand," he smiles sadly. Ratchet's servos are cleaning up the energon on my body and I can't help but wince as a deep gash was grazed. "You had it worse off than me, I think."

I didn't agree out loud but we all knew the truth. Scratch marks of this intensity had never shown up from Knockout; never had Sermin needed a full valve check-up either. The aching sting of Ratchet's finger pressing into my sore valve to check how it had held together against Megatron's assault. Sermin was getting a lesson at the same time but I didn't mind; he needed to know how to check this sort of thing.

He held my servo the whole time though and I'd be a liar if I said it didn't help ease my nerves. "Other than some chaffing, you're valve is still in tact, Dante," Ratchet finally says, walking over to sit on the edge of my berth. His servo was gentle on the side of my faceplate but I couldn't look at his optics. "Why did you go to Megatron?"

I couldn't answer him.

"Gabriel injured the Prime in the ambush today," Sermin answers for me, his voice soft but confident. "Megatron became angry and Dante stepped forward to talk some sense into the overlord." Sermin's servo clenches around mine, his anger radiating hot from his body. "He compromised."

Ratchet's faceplate held nothing for a few moments then a sudden, raw anger. Was he mad at…me? I couldn't bear it if he were angry at me; it would destroy my entire world. "Ratchet," I whisper but his servos grab me up. I find myself wrapped in his arms, his servos pressing against the small of my back.

"I'm sorry," he nearly sobs. His tone was a mixture of sadness and anger that made me feel better and worse at the same time.

I leaned into the embrace, stealing the Medic's heat. It didn't surprise me when Sermin's arms wrapped around me from behind, incasing me in a warmth that soothed my aching body. It hurt, both mentally and physically, but I couldn't help but feel better to have both Sermin and Ratchet there. They both knew what it was like to be forced into something that you didn't want to take part in.

The door opened a few minutes later to let in the rest of our little gang. I looked up in just enough time to see Puck's faceplate twist with horror and anger before he rushed the way he came. "I've got him," Gene whispers before following.

Gabriel's optics were sad as he sat down on the opposite side of the berth from Ratchet. Sermin's servo stroked the huge mech's shoulder to soothe him because we could all see the guilt. "Gabe," I smile weakly. "It was worth it to save your sorry aft."

My lame try at humor got me a small, dry chuckle from the mech even as he reached out to pull me into a rare hug. It was warm and welcome; he had been hugging us a lot lately. "This won't happen again," he promises, his derma moving against my forehead. "Never again."

And I believed him.

* * *

><p>My best friend's body was…ravaged. It was the only way to describe what I was looking at. He had scratch marks all over his frame that oozed phosphorescent energon and his hips had two giant dents that looked conveniently like servos. I don't think I had even been speechless in my entire function to date but…tonight, I didn't have anything to say.<p>

Anger, raw and overwhelming, started in my spark and spread like poison through my form until I was trembling with it. I had never felt something so powerful before and it was hard to keep it bottled up. I couldn't say anything as I stood there, staring. One of the smartest, bravest, most wonderful mechs I had ever met; he had never said a terrible thing about anyone in his entire function and this was how he was repaid.

I rushed from the room without thinking; I needed air that didn't smell like energon. Someone followed me but I didn't care as a scream ripped from my throat and I threw my fist at the wall. It didn't land; no, instead, Gene wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me back and his other kept my fist from contacting the wall. It was probably the closest I had ever been with the mech but I couldn't hold in the half-choked sob that escaped my throat.

Helpless, I was angry and helpless.

The Vehicon tactician didn't say anything, just held me. It was the strangest hug I had ever been a part of but it helped, a little. "He didn't deserve that," I finally whisper.

His servos gently turned me around so that he could look into my maskless faceplate. "He, least of all, deserved that," he agreed, holding onto my upper arms softly. _"It's time to take what is rightfully ours."_

I was shocked when he was suddenly switched to the comm.-link but I couldn't agree more with him. _"Yes, I'm tired of being used,"_ I respond with a nasty smirk before I pull away from him. _"You'd better be careful…we might start to believe you have a spark."_

He chuckles lightly and pats my shoulder. "Good to have you back."

* * *

><p>I sat at my console in the control room, alone, and smirked from behind my mask. Dreadwing, Knockout and Megatron were out of the ship on a mission and wouldn't be back for another hour or so. It was plenty of time to commandeer the ship and start our plan. Soundwave had stepped out of the room for a few minutes, which wasn't a surprise seeing as he was our double agent, sort of. He couldn't 'officially' help us but he could be 'conveniently' missing when we struck.<p>

Primus, Ratchet was a genius.

Gene was stationed on a lower section of the ship with the rest of the Drones ordered to stay on the ship. Actually, we had picked and chosen who we wanted here on the ship and who we wanted to go with Megatron. It wasn't like he knew the difference between us or cared to check; he figured he was fine with any Drones and didn't expect anything.

Gabriel was with Gene along with a whole pack of double digits, one and two hundred generations because they were our warriors. Several three and four hundred generation tacticians were set up with separate teams to convey orders as they were given. Gene had our best five and six hundred generation specialists, some were snipers, spies, ninjas and other specializations were scattered across the Nemesis in specified spots. They were our backup.

Puck and I, seven and eight hundred generation so we were under a broad classification. We were a little bit engineer, a dash of scientist and a hint of inventor. I was a bit better at coding than Puck who was at a different console, deep within our territory, ready to take control of the ship within a spark beat.

Our nine hundred and four digit generations were Medics and other assorted professions. The Medics were scattered across the ship as well to monitor our other troops.

Now all that was needed was my first move. It was an easy access into the ship's coding and all I needed to do was block Soundwave from having control. To get the communication's officer out of the way, he had accepted to take on a harmless virus that would temporarily knock him into a stasis mode that only Ratchet had the pass code for; not even I knew what it was. It was a genius little piece of work that I was quite proud of creating.

I quickly uploaded the virus and locked it onto Soundwave's specific frequency before setting up the other coding. The process took all of two minutes and I was hacked into the ship's controls. I shifted it to the console where Puck was waiting. _"Hack complete,"_ I state over the comm.-link with a smirk.

"_Copy that,"_ Puck responds. _"Commencing phase two."_

Closing down the window on my console, I didn't have to wait long before Soundwave returned to the control room. He was an odd mech with long, lanky limbs and sharp edges across his body; he wasn't unattractive, by any means, but he was a mysterious figure that no one knew anything about. Even hacking into the computer hadn't allowed me to find any information on him. It was best left that way, I guess.

As he usually did, his tentacles came out of his body and latched onto the computer. I watched out of the corner of my optic as he started to hack into the ship's coding. I smirked when the mech's body snapped ramrod straight as if shocked. My body was quick to lurch forward so that he didn't hit the ground; he deserved better than a couple of dents for agreeing to this. He was helping us, after all.

Gently, I laid him down on the ground. He needed to be found like this for the plan to work properly but I wouldn't let him get hurt. Megatron wouldn't check for the dents that should be there and I quickly made myself scarce. The warlord and his two generals would be here soon; I wouldn't allow myself to be in their warpath.

I went to Puck's side and waited.

* * *

><p>My pedes carried me to the control room. Knockout was at my side, his faceplate a grim twist of worry and confusion. This was all according to plan; Megatron would want to see me after he found his unconscious communication's officer in the control room. Why would anyone else try to take out Soundwave? I was the only one on this ship capable, right?<p>

I kept a smirk from crossing my derma as the door to the control room opened up. Megatron was already in a rampage when I stepped onto the bridge. "What did you do to Soundwave?" Megatron rounds on me as soon as he knows I'm there.

My optics move over to the prone mech lying on the ground. He was obviously very unconscious; he was a getting a nice quite vacation while the rebellion went on. We promised him he wouldn't be hurt in the process and I was going to uphold my end of the bargain. "I haven't done anything, My Lord," I say honestly. "You can check the surveillance."

His faceplate heats with an amount of anger I had never witnessed before. "I can't access the surveillance! Someone has hacked our computer!" he roars, stomping forward to get into my personal space.

"Megatron, you know that I am about as good with coding as Soundwave is with small talk," I point out, crossing my arms over my spark chamber. He couldn't pin anything on me but that didn't meant he couldn't beat me to make himself feel better.

"Then who could it have possibly been?" his voice rattles the metal of the room. I could feel it vibrate through my chassis as well but I stood firm.

"I don't know, Megatron," I shrug lightly. "I don't know of anyone who would be able to hack your ship." Liar.

He didn't seem to know what to do with himself especially when he realized that my logic was sound. I was a Medic, not a hacker. Knockout and Dreadwing also looked disturbed when they realized that someone off ship had hacked into the Nemesis. Dante had cut off all communication capabilities so they couldn't contact the insecticons either.

Gene had thought of everything.

Now, all we had to do was take down the two generals. Then, Megatron would need to surrender or die; I was pretty sure he wouldn't lower himself to the latter. "If all of these consoles are not operational then perhaps this person didn't think to do the same to the Drone's consoles," I plant the final seed that perks Megatron's interest.

"Dreadwing, Knockout, go find a terminal that works," he commands easily before looking at me. "The Medic stays with me."

* * *

><p>I stood in my hidden section of darkened piping waiting. Any second now the two generals would be making their way down this hallway, corralled by our snipers and shadow-mechs. Dreadwing was my team of double digit's responsibility; Knockout was an opposite team of one hundred generation's problem.<p>

The sounds of quick pedes and gun shots came to my audio receptor and I turned to nod at my team. They spread out around the piping to spots that lined the walkway where the two generals were being led. I took my own spot next to the leader of the other team captain in the middle of the walkway to block the progress of the two mechs. We were almost touching the hallway was so narrow.

Knockout was the first to round the corner, staring behind him in evident fear. "You two!" he shouts when he spots the two of us. "Go find what's shooting at us!"

How I wish I could have the other Captain's job. It would feel so sweet to beat the pulp out of the lecherous mech for what he did to Sermin and myself. "No sir," the other Captain, nicknamed Bob, smirks behind his mask.

Shock crosses the Medic's faceplate before he is hauled up bodily into the air and tossed further down the hallway where the team waited. I didn't need to look to hear them jump the mech to start tying him up; his high pitched scream was good enough for me.

Dreadwing wasn't too far behind him but we already had Knockout out of the way and hidden in an alcove that only we would know about. He looked around ignoring me until he realized that I was the only one there. "Where is Knockout?" he questions, hefting his weapon just to be sure.

"We took him to a safe place, sir," I said, changing tactics. Dreadwing was smart and we no longer hand the advantage of surprise. "We need you to come with us. Someone has infiltrated the ship and we have to get you to safety."

He looks a little skeptical at first but he nods his helm and moves to walk in front of me. Of course, he would lead the way as I politely follow. We pass the alcove where Knockout was hidden; I reach out and the shock staff that the general constantly used slid into my palm.

With a quick glance upwards, I nod my helm before turning the staff on full power and jabbing it into Dreadwing's back. He roars with pain, his body going straight with tension before turning to growl at me. I smirk as a shadow drops from the ceiling behind him and relieves him of the giant cannon before disappearing again.

Dreadwing took his optics off of me at the proper time. Cocking back, I slammed my fist into his faceplate, knocking him to the ground. My team swarmed around him to incapacitate the general and slipping him into an alcove as well.

"_Mission accomplished,"_ I send to Gene with a smirk. _"I'm heading to the control room."_

"_We need a new plan, Gabriel," _Gene says, sounding distracted.

"_What? Why?"_

"_Megatron kept Ratchet with him,"_ he explains. I curse softly, waiting for the mech to come up with a new plan; it wouldn't take long. _"Okay, I've got it."_

* * *

><p>"<em>What's taking so long? He's getting angry,"<em> I ask Gene through our comm.-link.

"_They're on their way, just hold on."_

That was all I got before the link was shut off. This wasn't quite what the plan had it mind; we figured Megatron would send me to guide them through that part of the ship. Neither of the generals knew where all the terminals were like I did but Megatron was unpredictable.

"This is all because of the Autobots isn't it?" he smirks from his spot by the main terminal. "You're a double agent? Is that is?"

Oh slag. "No, I haven't spoken to the Autobots since I defected," I say, trying to ease this paranoia before he came to any dangerous conclusions.

He walks closer and I feel my spark pound in anxiety. "Is that so? Was it even true, the excuse you gave me?" he questions with an ugly expression on his faceplate.

"Yes, sir, it was," I grit out, trying to forget what my old friend made me do. "If the Autobots are trying to sabotage you, I have nothing to do with it."

He seemed to relax a little before nodding. "I believe you, Medic," he smirks but lifts his cannon anyway. "But, I can't take any chances."

I hear the hum of his cannon coming to life just as the door opens to my right. Megatron doesn't even bother to see who it is before he fires. My function flashes through my processor and I know that I have no time to dodge. Everything slows down even as I feel something hit me to the side into the terminal at my left.

Everything goes deathly silent and I can smell burnt metal and energon. A roar penetrates the air even as I look over to see a crumpled body against the wall. A mess of splattered energon covered the wall behind him and a huge hole is where his right arm and shoulder should be. I can see the light of his spark leaking out the right side where his chamber was compromised.

I lunge forward to press my hand against the wound, trying to find something to cover the huge hole in his chamber. "You need to stay with me," I nearly sob as I take up a piece of my own armor off my shoulder. I place it against the hole and try to weld the piece on but it's much too thick so I try a different piece.

"Ratchet," he whispers, taking off his mask so that I could see who it was. "Hey, it's okay, dude. There's no use."

"Don't say that Puck! Shut up and let me work!" I snap weakly as I find that his arm and shoulder were in too small of pieces. _"Sermin, I need scrap metal! Hurry!"_

He touches my faceplate with his remaining servo. "Ratch, take it easy. I'm good."

"No you're not, stop saying that!" I shout, completely oblivious to the fight going on behind me.

He pulls me closer to kiss my derma gently; it felt too much like a good-bye. "Tell Dante I said bye, 'kay?" he murmurs with a soft smile. "I'm glad it was for something worthwhile. I'd hate to die in a mining accident."

"Puck, stay with me!" I press my servo harder onto the containment but it was cold. Pulling away, I see that the light was gone and his optics were dim. My spark twists in pain even as the door opens for Sermin. The mech takes one look at the body and drops everything in shock. "Primus, please!"

* * *

><p>I took my optics off of my opponent for a small second to see Ratchet covering Puck's lifeless body. It was all the push I needed for anger, powerful and raw, to fill my entire form. With a roar, I shoved Megatron off of me. He seemed shocked at my ferocity and it gave me the perfect moment to slide my arm blade up through his spark chamber from his abdomen.<p>

He gasps in pain but his instincts tell him to stay still so that the blade doesn't press any further. I was two inches away from his spark. "This is for what you did to Dante and Puck," I whisper into his audio receptor before twisting the blade.

I would be a liar to say that I didn't enjoy the pop of his spark chamber or the wheezed breath that left Megatron's oral vent. I could feel the heat of his spark then…nothing. Jerking my blade from the mech's spark chamber, I watched the shell of a once charismatic leader fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Sermin had Ratchet wrapped up in his arms and I lowered myself down to my knees to wrap my arms around both of them. It was hard to see Puck without the liveliness that he had lived with; I should have tried harder to keep him from coming with me. He had insisted so that he could help protect Ratchet. Without him, Ratchet would be dead. No one could have seen this coming.

The door slipped open again but only silence ruled for a few moments. I didn't really have to look up to know it was Dante standing there but I did anyways. I felt pain lance through me at the expression on his faceplate. Puck had been his best friend and some of us expected a lot more. "Dante," I whisper, standing to touch his shoulder. He jerks away and rushes from the room.

I didn't blame him…running away seemed like a good idea right now.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><strong>A/N: I'm not going to say much because this chapter says it all! One more chapter and I'm done with this story! D: I'm going to miss it!

Thanks to everyone who commented! :D

Autobotdog: Thank you so much! *bows* That makes me super happy! xD And I'm going to choose the next pairing after I finish with the last part of this story!

I hope you enjoyed it!


	29. Bleed Like Me: Part Seven

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Mention of Non-Con; Sexual content

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"You can be addicted to a certain kind of sadness."<p>

~ Gotye "Somebody that I Used to Know"

* * *

><p>Within the next couple of days, I was kept very busy. I had to oversee repairs on the ship and upgrades on the army's weapon systems. My job as head Engineer was hectic but a welcome distraction from the grief that would overcome my spark if I were left alone with nothing to do but think. It was hard to imagine that I would never see him again. Sometimes, I just expected him to just jump out of nowhere, wrap his arm around my shoulder, and tell one of his corny jokes.<p>

I refocused on the blueprints of the renovations we were doing on a certain section of the ship's inner core. It was going to decrease the amount of energon needed to power the Nemesis and make it easier to navigate. It had taken me these three days to draw up the blueprints with several other engineers and then some time to get the parts to do it.

Parts were probably the hardest thing to come by but Ratchet had a solution. He suggested negotiating with the United States government. He said he had some experience with them and knew an agent that he could speak with. Somehow, he convinced them that we were interested in diplomacy with the Autobots, which came as a surprise to all of us.

Ratchet was still refusing to tell any of us why he defected from his original faction. It wasn't like it really mattered but if we were to come to some sort of diplomacy with the Autobots, he would be forced to face the past. He seemed fine but placed Gene as liaison and Ambassador with the humans and the Autobots. Ratchet just helped with the upgrades and check-ups, which were enough to keep him busy for quite some time.

Everything was going great.

It would be perfect if Puck were here. Ratchet kept himself constantly busy because I think he blamed himself for Puck's death. I saw the surveillance of what happened; no one blamed Ratchet for what happened. No, Puck threw himself into the line of fire for a good reason. Could we have done the planning during the aftermath without Ratchet? Truthfully, he was what kept us going and he was a leader even if he didn't take the role. No, he was happy to let Gabriel take the leadership responsibility. He was happy to keep his normal job.

Tactically, it was a great triumph. In the end, we had finished with two casualties: Megatron and Puck. It had gone better than anyone could have expected; our plan had been flawless and it helped that we had the element of surprise. Still, I should feel elated. Instead, most of us felt the heavy burden of grief weighing on our shoulders.

I just wanted to recharge until the hole in my spark healed over. He was my best friend. We had been together since he was stationed in my team when he was first created. He was a generation behind me but it made sense why the two of us got along so well together; it seemed that the generations with the same jobs were more likely to hang with each other. It didn't explain why our little group stuck together so tightly, though.

We had taken so quickly to each other, Puck and I. Our personalities were completely different but we seemed to function better that way; he made up for my flaws with his strengths and vise versa. He was my other half and it felt like I had lost a part of my soul with him gone. Drones didn't spark-merge but it felt like we almost had that sort of relationship.

"Dante."

I jumped when Gene's servo landed on my shoulder. "Primus, you startled me," I sigh deeply, turning to look at him. The room was empty of any other engineer and that surprised me. "Where is everyone?"

Gene's lopsided smirk soothes some of my stress. "They all went to get their nightly energon then to recharge," he pointes out as I check my internal clock. It was almost twelve in the morning.

"I hadn't even realized!" I gasp, standing up with the sound of stiff joints. My body seemed to realize how long it had been. Gene lays a cube of energon down on the table next to us as I stretch out my aching struts. "Oh, thanks."

He leans against the table, his grin disappearing. "How you holding up?" he asks as I sip the cool, soothing liquid. How many times had I ignored my internals telling me I needed to refuel? I was nearly in critical need of energon.

I focus on Gene instead of everything else. "Good, considering," I respond softly, sitting on the stool. My back struts just couldn't hold me straight so I slumped into myself; it was unattractive but Gene didn't care so why should I?

He quirked an optic ridge at me, his new optic almost brand new. I wondered where Ratchet had gotten it but I decided I didn't want to know. It was customary to use the shells of dead Drones as spare parts; what was the use of burying or throwing away good parts? Besides, it was what all of us wanted. We would rather live on and help each other than waste. Was that Puck's optic? Puck would have wanted Gene to have it.

"Truthfully, Dante," he says firmly, reaching out to touch my shoulder. It was a comforting gesture and I felt a little bit of warmth flow through my body. Gene had been opening up more and more since our successful revolution; it was nice to see him smiling and interacting with others.

Hiding behind the cube, I frown deeply. "It hurts to think that I'll never see him again," I admit, looking to the side. The sound of his subspace opening catches my attention.

Shifting my gaze, I see him pull out a mask. "I saved this," he smiles gently. "I think you should have it."

My servo trembles as grief overwhelms my spark, eating it alive. I reach out to take it; the only thing left of my best friend other than my memories of him. "I can't believe he's gone," I whisper, shocked by the sound of my own voice. I sounded rough.

Gene slowly wraps his arms around my shoulders to pull my faceplate into his spark chamber. He was just a bit taller than me but it was enough to dwarf me ever so slightly. "Dante," he soothes, running his servo down my back tenderly. "In the end, he died because he chose to do so. His sacrifice was his choice; it was his declaration of independence, of freedom. He died on his own terms."

His words were honest but it still didn't keep the sadness at bay. No, only time would ease the pain in my spark whenever I thought about my best friend. "I'm going to miss him," I sob into the Vehicon's spark chamber, wrapping my arms around his waist to enjoy the warmth.

He strokes my down wing to ease some of the tension in my shoulders. "I know, me too," he whispers, lying his helm on top of mine. "Though, I am glad Primus gets to hear his corny jokes."

I can't help but chuckle at the small peak of humor from the usually stoic mech. I pull away slightly to look up at him. "True," I stare up at the scarred mech and smile. "How did it go today?"

He doesn't fully let go of me either, keeping his arms draped over my shoulders. It said something that he could stand to be so close without flinching away. He would have before Ratchet showed up. "The humans are nervous to believe us," he comments, letting his hip rest against the table. "Agent Fowler is demanding to speak with Ratchet. He wants a character reference, I think."

I let my helm rest against the bigger mech's shoulder, enjoying the warmth and the intimate contact. Truth be told, I hadn't done much socializing since Puck's death. It was nice to feel Gene lower his arms to wrap them around my waist, keeping me close. I could hear the beating of his spark through his chest and it made me sleepy just listening to the rhythmic pulsations. "Mm?" I hum to tell him I'm still listening.

His servos brush my lower back, hugging me tighter. "I don't blame him but we have yet to show any hostility and I have explained our situation to him and his superiors," he goes on, lying the side of his helm against mine. "It'll just take some time to earn their trust. That and handing over our prisoners to the Autobots for proper detainment even if we have better cells here."

His deep voice, though slightly raspy, was lulling me deeper into my trance-like state. "Are they demanding that?" I ask, my derma brushing across his neck cables gently.

He heaves a heavy sigh. "Pretty much," he tells me honestly with a slight shrug. "The Autobots don't think we can handle them."

I shake my head. "Not much of a shock. They still see us as Drones. It'll take a while for them to realize we're more than that," I point out sadly. We were still just workers, not a well-run army.

"It might take Ratchet taking a leadership role," he admits with a small bit of vehemence. It wasn't directed towards Ratchet, far from it, actually. He hated to admit that we needed a non-Drone to give us credibility. His servos clench against the small of my back, flowing with angry heat. "It's ridiculous. We could overrun the Autobots right now without any problem and yet they still refuse to acknowledge us as a threat."

Gently, I slip my servos up to knead his shoulders. "They will understand, eventually, Gene," I soothe, watching the stress flow from his struts at the attention. He closes his optics with a low, reverberating hum of appreciation. "We just have to show them. Let's have a council meeting to see what the others think; maybe they have some ideas."

He lets me massage his tired cables for a few moments in silence. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he finally states, opening his optics and wrapping his servos around my wrists. "I know this is…sudden and probably ill-timed…"

My optics widen as he looks down at me with a strange mixture of emotions. "Gene?" I question, slightly worried.

"I'm awful with words in situations like this, Dante. I can make passionate speeches to human diplomats right off the top of my processor and I've rehearsed what I would say to you a thousand times but…" he pauses and pulls me closer by my wrists until our bodies, from chest to thighs, are touching. "I'm just going to show you."

One servo drops my wrist to press against the small of my back, keeping me in place so his derma could cover mine. Surprise and liquid fire rush across my form until I feel like I might burst into flames right there. I almost expected this to be his first kiss but the way his mouth manipulated mine…he must have some kind of experience. His glossa was dominating and tasted of electric heat and a sharp tang almost like copper.

Just as quickly as it had started, he was pulling away to let my oral vent take in some air. My form was burning with embarrassment and arousal. He never touched anyone like this, right? "W-Where did that come from?" I wonder out loud, staring at him in shock.

His confidence, something that he always had, slips a little in his expression but he holds strong. "I know it's not much but I want to comfort you in any way possible," he finally whispers. "Wow, that sounded a lot better in my processor, I'll just-"

I grab him as he tries to escape and slam our derma together again. It was a great release of tension to finally kiss someone. It was true that Puck and I were lovers, more than just occasionally, but I was just as much Drone as anyone else. Was this too soon? No, Puck would want me to move on. He would want me to be happy and I had to admit that I missed being intimate with someone. Besides, Gene was someone I trusted very much. He would never hurt me.

The heat radiating between the two of us was intoxicating as he flipped us around. My lower back pressed into the table but I was too focused on the hot mouth on mine. He stole all of the tension right out of my body, running his searing servos up my sensitive sides. I felt my body shudder with pleasure even as he was pulling away to stare down at me.

"You're not taking advantage of me," I smile, my vision growing hazy with the tingling heat that slipped across my chassis.

It was all the insistence he needed before his servos were lifting me up onto the table. Situated as I was, he slipped between my knees to better reach my neck cables. My knees clamped down against his hips, pleasure shooting through my interface panel until I was moaning. His sharp fingers lightly ran up the outside of my thighs, teasing transformations seams until he was dipping into my hip-joints.

"G-Gene!" I gasp, clinging desperately to his shoulders. He was too good at this to be a virgin; then again, did I truly believe any of us were virgins?

His deft fingers tweaked sensitive wires until my panel popped open without permission. "Lie back," he whispers into my audio receptors, his servo gently pressing me down. I lie back on my elbows, watching as he trailed his derma down my abdominal plating to my pressurized spike. It was agonizing pleasure to watch and feel him get closer and closer…

"A-Ah!" I whine softly, arching into the gentle lick placed at the tip. He eased my knees up over his shoulders and ran his glossa up the underside of my spike. His fingers ran down the sides of my thighs until one digit brushed the soaked rim of my valve. "P-Please, Gene!"

He hums in appreciation before suckling on the tip of my spike and pressing a single finger into my tight valve. My hips buck wildly as he stills me with his free servo against my hip. His cheeks hallow out to put suction on more of my spike as he dips down. I can't help the noises that escape my vocalizer as his finger starts to work my valve in time with his bobbing head.

I felt the slow, intoxicating buildup of a long needed overload until I was gasping for air. My back started to grow tense, arching into a delicate curve until I shuddered. "I'm going to-" I felt another finger added and it pushed me over the edge into a beautifully explosive overload.

He lifts his helm to watch my faceplate as I spasm with wave after wave of pleasure. I online my optics in enough time to see him run his glossa over his lubricant covered fingers. He caught my optics and I felt a wave of arousal flood my senses as he slipped one into his oral vent. It was…uncharacteristic but no less arousing.

"You taste great," he smirks, making my spark clench with pleasure.

Sitting up, I push him back a bit to see his pressurized spike. When had his panel opened? That aside, he was quite impressive. "My turn," I return his smirk before slipping off of the table to my knees. I can feel his gaze as I reach up to gently palm his shaft with both servos, touching the ribbed texture and wondering how nice it would be to have it in my valve.

That thought alone had my valve lubricating again as I leaned forward to lick the small bead of pre-lube off the tip. Gene sighs softly in pleasure as I wrap my derma around the tip and mimic him by sucking teasingly. I had to admit that I hadn't done this in a very long time but it came back rather quickly as I took more of his spike into my mouth.

He bent forward and braced himself with one servo on the table. The other pressed against the back of my helm to encourage me with soft pressure. I gave an inward kind of smirk before relaxing my throat and took most of his spike. He made a choked off sound of pleasure, clenching his servo on the back of my helm before I was pulling away. Before he could even relax, I dipped down again, setting a fast rhythm that made him gasp. "S-Stop," he whispers, pulling me up gently. "I'm not done with you yet."

Flushed with arousal, I yelp as I am turned and bent over the table by strong servos. I feel like it should have been embarrassing but I could only feel sharp pleasure as the tip of his spike brushed my valve. My moan was sharply changed to a scream as he easily seated himself in one thrust. The stretch was only slightly painful but one more thrust had me moaning at the sweet friction.

He leans over me, pressing his chest into my back even as he started a slow, easy rhythm. I felt every ridge and rib of his spike slip in and then out of me with beautiful detail. My spike was already pressurizing again; he suckled my neck cables as slowly as his thrusts. It felt amazing but it wasn't enough.

"Want more?" he teases, his vocalizer dipping low.

"Primus, yes-ah!" I yelp as he jerks his hips forward.

His new rhythm is hard and sharp but still leisurely. I moan, pushing back against his thrusts to get more friction. "Patience, Dante," he rasps as his servos grip my hips. "I'll give you what you want."

Pinning my hips against the table, he picks up the pace. It was a gradual acceleration until my noises were drowned out by the sound of metal against metal as his pelvis made contact with my aft. "Oh frag!" I keen, arching my back as his derma tease the tip of my wing sending waves of pleasure through my body. "D-Don't stop, please!"

Hooking his servos around my hips, he pulled me back as he slammed forward. I could feel the charge rushing through my valve and felt my overload tease my processor until my vocalizer glitches. My optics offline as I fall over the edge, spasming in pleasure.

The feel of my valve clenching down knocked Gene over the edge and the gush of tranfluid over my sensitized nodes only intensified my overload. It was the ultimate release that had me slumped against the table with Gene lying against my back. It was warm but not all that comfortable. "Let's relocate," I chuckle softly, the sound a little hoarse with static.

"Good idea," he agrees, pulling away from me. It was a little disappointing to lose his spike but I let my panel close. "Here, let me." One second I'm standing up and the next he has me cradled in his arms.

"I can walk," I smile, reaching out to grab Puck's mask. I looked down at it for a moment before setting it gently into my subspace; I'd put it on my berthroom wall once I was there. "But, this is nice."

* * *

><p>Gabriel didn't mind me holding his servo as we walked down the hallway toward the room where we were having our little get together. It was nice to feel his servo wrapped around my much smaller one. It was spark-warming to see his faceplate out in the open. His scars were shocking the first few times I had seen it and I'm sure it was the same for others but the General was only a monster on the battlefield. He had a spark of gold any other time.<p>

"Slow down, Sermin. They're not going to start without us," he chuckles in that smooth as high-grade vocalizer.

It sent an involuntary shudder down my spinal struts that I'm sure he was more than aware of. Ever since he and Ratchet helped me with my…problem, it was his voice that I remembered the most. Sometimes, I heard it in my recharge when my processor ran through defrag and shards of memories; it was the human equivalent of a dream, I guess. They were just pieces of memories in no certain order combined with sound bits. The memory of that night was a lustful haze but I could clearly remember his voice whispering into my audio receptors.

With a vocalizer like that, who could forget?

His servo clenched around mine to pull me up short. I look back hoping my faceplate wasn't too heated with my less than appropriate thoughts. "I'm sure we could convince Ratchet to repeat that night," he lulls into my audio receptor suggestively. "That way you can remember every second."

Coming from such a serious mech, I would be lying if I said my spark didn't pulsate harshly. "A-Ah, I'm sure he's much t-to busy for me!" I chuckle nervously, trying to pull away.

He doesn't ease up his iron grip. Instead, he wraps his other servo around my hip to pull me against his form, smirking down at me. "I think I speak for both of us when I say that we'd drop everything to hear you scream again." The tone of his voice alone makes my knees weak. He straightens with a smug grin on his face. "We'll see what happens, I guess."

With a pat on my aft, he was walking away. It took me a second to gather the nerve to rush after him; my valve was threatening to lubricate already and he hadn't done anything to me. Someday, I'd ask him how he did it…well, not like I could succeed anything so fantastic. I was more of a valve mech anyways.

We crossed paths with Gene and Dante just as they were coming out of their respective quarters. The whole army worried for Dante's mental wellbeing because of Puck's death. He had been too quiet and too focused on his work for the first couple of days after the revolution. Then, it was just yesterday that he perked up and was more like himself again. It was comforting to see him joining us in our celebration.

We all made our way to the quarters that once belonged to Megatron himself. It had been insisted by more than just our little group that Ratchet receive the largest area for himself. He fought it, hard, but we all gave him no choice. Of course, before he was allowed to move in we made sure to clean out all of Megatron's personal items. We didn't want unfavorable memories popping up for Ratchet or Dante.

Knowing Megatron was dead helped, a lot.

"Ratchet," I opened the door with a smile. "We brought high-grade!"

He looks up from his data pad in his servo. "What's the occasion?" he chuckles lightly, making room on the couch for Gabriel and me to flank him. Gene and Dante took the other smaller couch across from the small table.

"Well, Gene had a meeting with the United States government and the Autobots today," I start proudly. Ratchet sets his datapad to the side as Gabriel pours the high-grade into separate cubes for all of us. We had found it when we went through each general's room to clean them out so our new leaders could use the largest areas as work rooms.

Generals and Commanders were voted on by a majority and those individuals became our council. Gabriel was our Head General; Gene was the Head Tactician; Phillip was our Lead Weapon's Specialist; Sharp Shooter (he chose to take a Cybertronian name instead of human) was the Commander of our Snipers and other specialized warriors; Dante was Commanding Engineer; Glen was our Head of Science; and Ratchet was our Commanding Medical Officer at my request. I was the assistant CMO but I still had a lot to learn and thought Ratchet would do a better job.

"How did that go?" Ratchet asks softly, sipping his high-grade. He looked a lot more relaxed than he had in the past couple of days; he was just as upset by Puck's death as the rest of us.

I look over at Gene but he just shrugs. "It went well."

"He's much too humble!" I laugh, taking a draw at my own high-grade before continuing. "He finally convinced the humans to give us some scrap metal and resources!"

"What was the catch?" Ratchet asks with a knowing smile.

I shrug lightly. "Knockout and Dreadwing."

He mirrors my shrug. "Scrap for scrap, sounds like an even trade to me!"

We all laugh brightly. It was nice to be rid of the two Generals though I was a little frightened that they might get free, especially Dreadwing. He was more likely to fight than Knockout, the coward. "Sermin was there when I traded them over," Gene comments, causing my face to light up in embarrassment. "You want to tell them what you said or do you want me to?"

"I-I can't," I couldn't say it again if I tried.

Gene smirks. "You should have seen him." The others lean in, the anticipation palpable. "He walked right up to that aft-head and said, 'Don't worry, Ratchet and Gabriel will take better care of me while you're gone', then walked away!" Everyone howled with laughter as I sat there heating with embarrassed. "Should have seen the look on his faceplate!"

Sitting with this group was the best gift I could be given. It was such a great feeling to have my friends, my freedom and a promising future for the army. The humans were very accommodating when you weren't trying to steal their materials. Besides, we had a lot to offer them; our engineers and scientists had a lot of innovative new ideas that could help the humans and their problems. Made with the humans' resources, it would be easy to make them technology to help with a sustainable, clean energy source and a way to help cleanly and cheaply dispose of their trash.

Needless to say, the humans were happy to negotiate.

Ratchet was through his second cube and starting on his third before he cleared his vocalizer. "I think…I should explain a few things," he starts slowly. We paused in our conversations, focusing our attention on the Medic. "Why I defected."

Gabe and I exchange surprised glances but we control our expressions as the Medic stares into his cube. "You know that we won't think less of you…right?" Dante smiles gently, setting his cube down.

The Medic's servos were trembling minutely and I reach out to touch his wrist tenderly. "Ratchet, you can tell us anything," I soothe, finally catching his optics.

He sighs deeply. "Optimus is one of my greatest friends," he finally says softly. "I am-was deeply loyal to him. I would have done a lot of things for him but…he asked the one thing of me that I just couldn't do." He takes a large drink of his high-grade but doesn't stop. "I've repaired Starscream before but it was for inside information on Megatron. This time…Starscream needed his T-cog replaced…"

My servo squeezes his knee gently. "And?" I encourage.

"He wanted to pledge his loyalty to the Autobots as payment," Ratchet grits through clenched denta. "Starscream ruthlessly took Cliffjumper's spark when we first arrived here on Earth. He gloated about it and nearly took Arcee's spark as well. He wasn't always the most loyal to Megatron and brought one of your Eradicons with him. He claimed that he had changed; he claimed to be in love with the Eradicon he renamed Steve.

"I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him and I couldn't do as Optimus could…just forgive him! I kept seeing Cliffjumper's faceplate and Arcee's sadness over the loss of her partner…her lover," he growls, covering his faceplate with his free servo. "She was too loyal to Optimus to truly object but I wasn't. I couldn't do it…I couldn't just accept him into our rank and, to top that off, fix his T-cog! In the end, he had to give me a direct order before I would do the job."

Silence rings in my audio receptors for a few moments before he sighs. "Was it selfish of me to refuse? I guess…maybe I'm not a true Autobot if I can't stand up for the ideal that anyone can join no matter what their past," he whispers, shaking his head.

Gabe's servo reaches out to pull Ratchet's away from his faceplate. "He shouldn't have ordered you to do something that you felt was wrong," he affirms firmly.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it either," I nod confidently. "If you ordered me to fix Megatron after he murdered Puck…I would do the same thing." We all knew betrayal intimately so I couldn't imagine any of us would think less of Ratchet for his change of sides. Starscream hadn't been the most loyal to Megatron but a few of us had been there when the red, horned mech, Cliffjumper, had been killed. It hadn't really hit us that someone had truly cared for him until now.

Ratchet's face twists with pain at the mention of our friend's name. "Maybe if I had stayed…he would still be alive," he mumbles sadly.

"Don't say that!" Dante nearly shouts, standing to walk around the table. He crouched down at the medic's knee. "Without you, Puck wouldn't have had the choice to save your life. Sacrifice is a choice and without you we wouldn't have that freedom. You released us from our slave coding. Without you…"

I clench his arm. "Knockout would still be raping me!" I state firmly.

"It'd be painful to speak." Gabe squeezes Ratchet's servo.

"I'd still be out one optic!" Gene chuckles, walking around to sit on the table.

"I wouldn't know I was being used," Dante smiles gently. "None of this was possible without you. You gave us that little nudge we needed."

He looks at all of us for a few moments before nodding his head. "I guess you're all right," he smiles, the sadness lifting from his optics. "You were pretty hopeless."

We all laugh because it was true.

* * *

><p>I sat easily at the large makeshift table with Optimus Prime opposite me and our human liaison sitting in a chair made for his size on top of the surface. Agent Fowler was a dark-skinned human with a disposition like Ratchet; he was rough around the edges but fair. Optimus was an understanding mech and kind but he still doubted we could run the Nemesis properly without Generals. He may not even realize he looked at us as lower than non-manufactured mechs; it was probably some subconscious discrimination that came from being sparked by two mechs who were created that way as well.<p>

Drones only had one Creator.

"I don't know, Optimus," I respond to the request. "Ratchet may not take a leadership position but all of this is because of him and I won't make him do something against his wishes." It was a low stab that even Agent Fowler winced at but it needed to be said. Optimus kept stoic but I could see the pain in his optics.

The Prime gave a heavy sigh. "All I want is the chance to speak with him. If you would just ask, please?" he says politely.

How could I deny such a spark-felt request? "I will ask him but I can't promise anything. If he refuses, I won't ask again," I state firmly.

He nods. "Thank you."

"In the meantime," I begin with a wry smile. "We found a possible deposit of energon."

We went over the location of the deposit and how long it would take to mine the energon. Optimus' team was more than happy to help out with the process of mining and refining. In return, they got a thirty percent portion of the product. We only thought it was fair for a thirty-seventy deal because of how large our contingent of mechs was. Besides, how much energon could five Autobots use when there wasn't any reason to fight.

After the logistics of the energon deposit were settled, I figured we were done so I went to stand up. "I have one more thing to mention," Optimus comments with a tight smile. He looked tense. I quirk an optic ridge but easily sit down again. "Wheeljack's ship intercepted a message from Cybertron yesterday."

My optics widen in shock. A message from Cybertron? That was…foreboding. "Who was it from?" I ask softly.

"Shockwave."

* * *

><p><strong><span>To be continued...<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: Not that anyone will care but I lied! xD I decided I needed to explain a few more things so this story will go on! :D I'm not sure how long but longer than I thought!

Master of Grey: The edit document window has a button that you can put a line between sections on it! If you're using the same one I am, it's easy!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hope you enjoy this! I finally explained why Ratchet left! xD


	30. Bleed Like Me: Part Eight

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA

Warnings: Discrimination

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"Come into my world,<br>See through my eyes.  
>Try to understand,<br>Don't want to lose what we have."

~ Within Temptation "See Who I Am"

* * *

><p>"Good to have you back, Soundwave," I can't help but smile as I walked onto the main bridge. It was easy to give the mech a break after the huge ordeal and I knew he didn't like being incapacitated. He turned to look at me from behind his mask and I knew that was about as much of a smile as I would get. "How is Laserbeak?"<p>

"Fully functional," he answers easily, turning back to his console.

I walk up beside him, keeping a comfortable distance so I don't make him uneasy. "I'm sorry for the code," I mention, looking over the message that was running across the screen.

"It was an understandable consequence," he says in that strange vocalizer. He pauses in his typing to face me fully. "You have yet to tell them."

It wasn't a question but I sighed deeply. "I told them part of it," I admit, looking away from the intelligent 'con. He was probably the only one who knew the full reason why I defected…beyond what I had told my small group. I hated lying to them but I wasn't ready to admit the full truth. "With Shockwave coming…I don't want them to question my motives."

The communication's officer was quiet for a few moments before he nods his helm. "I understand why you have chosen what to tell, however…" He pauses. "I think you would be well advised to use blunt honesty."

I smile at the mech. "Are you advising me, Soundwave?" I chuckle lightly.

"I am merely expressing my opinion, nothing more," he affirms before going back to the computer. "Yesterday, I intercepted this message from Cybertron."

We had given Soundwave some time off to check Laserbeak and to just have a break from anything. The virus had left some residual coding that needed to be purged or it might cause problems for the communication's officer. It didn't surprise me that during his 'vacation' he had still been working. We never expected to get a message from Shockwave so quickly, though.

With a few quick keystrokes, the message was brought up. It was heavily encrypted but not from Soundwave who was supposed to read it. "He's on his way?" I ask, reading through the short correspondence a few times just to make sure. After being on Earth and speaking English for so long…Cybertronian was almost foreign.

Soundwave nods his helm. "Megatron wanted him here," he states tersely. "Your revolution was well timed."

I lean against the console gently. "So it seems…" I mutter, staring at the time that it will take the mech to get here. "We have a few months, at the most."

"Yes, calculating how long it took this message to travel through space and the fact that he was already on his way," Soundwave says confidently, doing the math in his processor. "I calculate…three months and five days."

That wasn't a lot of time to prepare. "Do you think he has a code that will allow him to take control over the Eradicons and Vehicons?" I question quietly. I was terrified of the answer but I had to know.

The mech hesitates just slightly. "I am not entirely certain but I would assume that such a thing is possible," he admits, staring through his mask at the screen. I could hear the condescending tone in his vocalizer; he was just as against this unethical coding as I was. "We would need to check the coding in every individual."

I felt my processor start to turn with ideas. "Coding knowledge would be in either the tacticians or the Medic's expertise," I mumble more to myself than to Soundwave. "I'll see if any of our mechs know how to check and alter coding."

Soundwave nods. "You will need an expert on the matter, however," he points out bluntly. "I do not necessarily trust Shockwave."

"Who does?" I snort in derision. "However, we don't have an expert."

Somehow, even with his mask on, I get the feeling that he was smirking at me just then. "The Autobots have a team on the way from a nearby galaxy," he tells me honestly. I feel my struts gain some tension before I force myself to relax. "Prowl is their leader, I believe."

I rub the arch between my optics as I feel a processor glitch come on. "How long until they arrive?" I finally resign myself. Prowl was the Autobot Second-in-Command but we were not the best of friends; less so now that I had defected. Prowl wouldn't understand my reasoning behind it, just that I now carried the Decepticon sigil.

"Two days," he seals my fate easily with those words. "I suggest speaking with Optimus Prime on the matter. He will have more sway with the tactician than anyone else, I believe."

"Great," I mutter under my breath before turning to leave. "I'll go set up a meeting with the Autobot leader. Take it easy, Soundwave."

* * *

><p>"You want me to check coding…with Prowl?" I ask skeptically, crossing my arms. Prowl was one of the best code writers in Cybertronian history. There was no way I could keep up with the great tactician and SiC. "Why don't you just let him do it? He could fix any code by himself."<p>

Ratchet sighs deeply. "He doesn't know your code like you do, Gene. He knows coding like mine and they aren't too different but there are certain…anomalies that exist in your code but not in ours," he tries to explain, gesturing with his servo tersely. I could tell he was tense but he was going to need to speak with Optimus about all of this as well. "Besides, I'd feel safer with both sides spoken for and you're our best code writer."

I may be the best in the Drone ranks but I was nowhere near Prowl's level. Who was I to deny such a great chance though? I wouldn't be on his level but I could at least learn a few things from the mech. "I'll do my best but you owe me!" I chuckle, pointing my finger at the Medic.

He looks up at me with a slight smirk. "I'm afraid I don't have much to offer," he laughs playfully. The suggestiveness of the comment made my struts go lax with a delicious shiver. He knew what those words invited in our ranks; he understood the implications of such a phrase.

Slowly, I run my optics down his form sitting there on the couch that once belonged to Megatron. He was a little more relaxed than a few moments ago with his arms slung across the back of the couch; he had his legs just slightly spread in a vulnerable state. His optics were too bright with a provocative gleam that made my spark pulse a little faster. He wasn't the most attractive mech I had ever laid optics on but…there was something about his stubborn nature and the gruff, rough personality that drew me in.

Lain out across the couch, he looked confident and sure of himself. He had the air of an old spark that had seen a lot and had been through even more. His experience was written across the light of his optics and it somehow drew me in like prey to a predator. I think every one of us found ourselves enraptured by this mech for different reasons but mine was too clear. He knew when to speak; he knew when to stay silent; and he knew what he wanted.

I found myself stepping forward until his servo reached out to run up the back of my thigh, pulling me closer. He spread his legs a little further to pull me between them, placing his other servo at my hip. Deft fingers brushed the curve of my aft, just barely grazing the seam of my interface panel. His optics held mine with a piercing gaze that made my intakes go shallow with a rush of heat.

"You have a lot to offer," I whisper breathlessly as he guides me down into his lap. My legs straddled his as he buried his faceplate in my neck cables. I hadn't ever been the valve during interface.

Truth be told, interface wasn't something I thought a lot about until after the Revolution. The other night with Dante had been a spur of the moment kind of thing, or at least I had thought that until afterwards. The feeling of relief, of satisfaction, had been all I needed to realize that I needed the intimacy. Drones were social by nature, something in our coding, I guessed. We couldn't go long periods of time without being around our own kind and we definitely couldn't go without intimacy.

There was just something about touching and being touched that made us happy.

It wasn't that I hadn't thought about being spiked. Honestly, I had contemplated a few times but…just look at me. I looked like a spike mech; I felt like a spike mech but I was curious. Dante seemed like he enjoyed it while we were interfacing.

As if hearing my thoughts he said, "You don't seem like the submissive type, Gene."

I couldn't help a breathless laugh as his talented glossa worked into a sensitive seam next to my spark chamber. "I've never…" I didn't have to finish the phrase.

He understood, pulling away a bit to look at my faceplate. "I don't mind being the valve, Gene," he says with complete seriousness.

I opened my mouth to speak when the door swished open. There were very few Drones with that code and they only used it for emergencies. "Oh, Primus, sorry!" Sermin yelped, disappearing out of the doorway.

Ratchet chuckles lightly before patting me on the aft playfully and stood up. He was strong for an old model but didn't hesitate to lean over to brush his derma against my audio receptor. "Another time," he promises before going to the doorway. "Sermin, it's okay. What do you need?"

* * *

><p>He was a drone.<p>

Ratchet, a traitor, expected me to work with a drone on the coding of even more Drones. It made little to no sense. If it were not for Optimus giving the order, I would not be helping the Drones. No, I would never help the Decepticon faction voluntarily even if they were no longer under the leadership of Megatron.

His designation was VC-303 but they called him Gene. It was a human designation but I did not understand how anyone could tell them apart. They all had the same body build to their class and they had the same masks that covered their faceplates. Ratchet spoke of them as if they were individuals. This meeting was more than I could handle, nearly. He spoke as if nothing were wrong with the Decepticon sigil branded into his spark chamber where his previous sigil once sat.

It should not have been so hard to see.

"I will help but I refuse to go aboard the Nemesis," I abject firmly, keeping my back straight and my door wings tensely in place. It was futile to pretend that I was completely relaxed; the Medic knew me better than that, sadly.

Ratchet scoffed at me. "You expect me to bring hundreds mechs here?" he asks, looking around at the small base that we inhabited. "I know you don't trust me, Prowl, and for good reason but this will help both sides in the long run."

Unfortunately, his logic was sound.

"I will land the Nemesis at these coordinates." He shot over a file with them in it. "I'd like to start tomorrow. Gene is eager to finish this project."

"As am I," I nod my head curtly.

Optimus and I stood when the newly turned Decepticon did. "Gene is young, Prowl," he speaks up after a few moments. "But he knows about coding and is willing to learn. With that said, he is also very important to me."

The tone in his vocalizer caught me off guard. I do not recollect a time when I heard it with such an edge that I feared it might cut. I could see it in his optics that we was not lying either; he meant every word he said. "I understand," I respond, hiding my surprise at how attached he had become with the drones.

He walked around the table to get into my personal field; he knew I was picky about personal space. "No, you don't," he whispers, sounding as if he were speaking with a sparkling. "If you hurt Gene or treat him poorly…it'll be me you deal with."

Ratchet was a fiery personality and his words solidified in my processor that he was no longer on my side. The tone of voice had a small inkling of anxiety slip through my struts. The Medic was a devil to have on your side with his quick temper and less-than-amiable demeanor but…to have him on the opposing fraction was terrifying. He knew all of my weaknesses, my flaws, and I, honestly, knew none of his. I never needed to catalogue any imperfection or weakness because he was such a firm believer in the Autobot way.

He didn't wait for me to respond before moving away. "Ratchet," Optimus whispers, his voice sounding weak. I knew it hurt Optimus the most that Ratchet had defected. They were friends from a time before this war and had history that none of us truly understood. Jazz swore they were once lovers; I was less than certain. "May I have a word while Prowl meets Gene?"

I can see the gears turning in Ratchet's processor just before he surrenders; I can see the tension drain from his shoulders until he is nearly slumped. "Very well then," he speaks up before moving to the door. "Gene, will you come here, please?"

It was interesting the way he said that. With Bumblebee or Bulkhead, he wouldn't have asked nicely. No, he would have skipped the questioning part and just ordered the young 'bots around. There was a true respect for these drones, something I had never seen in Ratchet before. It made my spark feel…odd.

I am not entirely sure why I watched the drone walk through the door. It was not as though he would look any different from his brethren. I guess I was a little curious to see the mech that I would be working with soon.

Ratchet's body was in the way for a few moments as he whispered with the drone before moving to the side. He looked like his brothers. Same paint job, same build, and same model but something was different. I had never seen one of his kind without a mask.

His faceplate was unique.

His optics were the heady red of his faction and their casings were narrow but expressive. He had a pair of parallel lines descending from them along with his derma. There was a scrap of a scar across his left optic casing. If I were not as observant, I probably would have missed it but there was something about it that gave him character. He had obviously been through many things in his function, just as the rest of us.

Ratchet whispered something into the audio receptors of the drone. I could not recall a time where Ratchet had voluntarily gotten so close, physically, to anyone in this entire time of war. Gene cracked a smile, something that made me stand a little straighter, if possible. It was small but deliberate and I got the impression that he did not waste time with futile meanderings.

Perhaps, this would not be as pointless as I first assumed.

"Prowl," Ratchet finally speaks up, still keeping an uncomfortably intimate distance from the drone. "This is Gene. You two can get to know each other while you wait for me."

Gene gave me a once over but it was subtle and would have taken a great optic to detect it. "After you," the drone offers in a quiet but steady vocalizer. He was collected, calm and in control. So far, he was making an admirable first impression.

I stepped forward, passing him without fear to lead him to the room just outside the door. He closes the door behind himself before I turn to face him. There is a muted dignity about the way he holds himself but I can see the slight chink in his confidence. There was something that cowed him, weighing down on his poise.

"I know you are probably less than happy about working with me," he finally speaks up as I finish scrutinizing him. My optics raise slightly but he had his optics averted. It was a second of weakness that he quickly covered with the raising of his chin. Just like that, he was completely confident. "But I promise to do my best."

My derma quirk into a slight smirk; he meant every syllable that he spoke. "I will hold you to that, Gene. Now, let us get through some logistics," I respond before taking a data pad from my subspace. "Here are the basics of coding. Look over them and-"

"I already know all of this," he states before I can finish. Some kind of emotion much have showed on my face because he grew tense. "I was suggested for this job for a reason, sir."

I didn't doubt Ratchet's choice and I took a moment to reconsider my obvious prejudice against the drone. "I fear I have let my preconceived notions about drones get in the way of logic," I state honestly. Pride was illogical and thus I shunned such a concept. "That, and as I have been notified, I am at a disadvantage in this project. Please excuse my ignorance, Gene."

His expression of shock was…strangely endearing. "It's an understandable attitude," he comments slowly. "Up until now, you never had any data to make a conclusive assumption about my people."

His people. What a strange pair of words to put together but I guess they did have their own little community now that I was getting a glimpse into the Nemesis. "I assume it is proper to ask if there is any information you wish for me to have on this subject before we proceed," I say, crossing my arms behind my back.

I observed the tension roll off his body in waves as he reached into his subspace to pull out a data-pad. "This is all of the data I have collected so far on the differences between Vehicons, Eradicons and Miners. It also has the differences between us and All-Spark-born Cybertronians," he explains, handing over the pad so that I could browse the information quickly.

It was very concise information; I was heavily impressed. "I will analyze this before our appointment so that I do not slow our progress," I smirk. Was it strange to enjoy the way his derma slowly fell into a relieved grin? Was it odd for me to find it appealing the way his confidence made his intelligence evident in his optics?

I suddenly felt the urge to rename his people. The word, 'drone', implied a lack of intelligence. It was self-evident that this mech had more intelligence then many All-Spark-born Cybertronians, as he called us. Drone just wouldn't cut it anymore…perhaps it was never good enough. Perhaps it just took a traitor to see the potential in an ignored community?

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: SORRY! I'M SO SORRY! This is really, really late! I lost my muse but since Transformers Prime started back up again she came back! D: This one is short but I thought I'd give you something while I hate it! I'm at school right now too so... . I'll try my hardest! This one is almost done but I just have to find the time!

Again, super sorry but I hope to have the next one soon!


	31. Bleed Like Me: Part Nine

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual content, discrimination

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"For once unafraid,<br>I can go where life leads me,  
>And somehow I know I'll be strong.<br>For once I can touch,  
>What my heart used to dream of,<br>Long before I knew,  
>Someone warm like you,<br>Could make my dream come true."

~ Michael Buble "For Once In My Life"

* * *

><p>Optimus and I stood there for a few moments in silence. He had this stoic expression on his faceplate that made it hard to determine what he was thinking. I wouldn't be cowed though; I was stronger than that. Besides, I had something worth fighting for now.<p>

"I am sorry for what I made you do, old friend. Believe me when I say that," he starts, a bit of guilt creeping across his faceplate. "I did not think it would be such an offense to you. You, above all others on this team, have upheld the Autobot way the most."

His words were meant to soothe but they only hurt. The Autobot way had once been to destroy mechs like Gene without a pause to think of the consequences. "No, we were wrong, Optimus," I whisper, barely hearing a conversation outside the door. It sounded civil, at least. I hoped Gene was doing a lot better than I was; then again, he did have a quick wit and even quicker glossa.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

My spark pulses painfully. "About them," I gesture toward the door as if it explained everything. "Shockwave created a whole army for Megatron and we just tore through them without asking any questions! We cut them down because we thought they were mindless drones that just did what they were told! None of us ever thought to ask questions." I looked at the door, imagining Gene's crumpled body under Bulkhead's weapon; I saw the light slip from Puck's optics. It hurt that I could have known hundreds more had we merely stopped and saw them for what they were. "You know they have their own personalities? Their own quirks, likes, dislikes, humor…they have their passions and they have so much potential…but we ignored it in our own ignorance."

Optimus' faceplate was one of shock. "You care a great deal for them," and it wasn't a question. "How were we to know they were we to know, Ratchet?"

I had asked myself that question but it didn't make me feel any better. "We are supposed to uphold sentient life but we ignored what was right in front of us so easily," I wince at the painful guilt. "There is no excuse for what we did."

There is silence for a few short seconds. "I have one more thing I'd like to ask," he utters slowly, hesitantly. It sounded as if he were about to ask a personal question but I merely met his gaze. "Knockout has bee quite…talkative since you brought him here."

"Big surprise, what of it?" I quirk an optic ridge.

He pauses, something that made me nervous. "He claims that you…abuse the drones."

It took all of thirty seconds for my processor to wrap around the phrase. "Of all the rust infected slag-heads!" I nearly roar. "I'm the one who abuses the drones?!" I needed something to throw or break so suddenly I nearly took my anger out on the console within arm's reach.

Optimus doesn't seem put out by my fit of anger and instead just places a consoling servo on my shoulder. "I do not believe his words, old friend," he smiles, cooling my anger slightly. "I just want you to know what he is saying."

I huff out a large sigh to try and calm myself down, finding that it wasn't working very well. "What else has he said?" I mumble, desperately wishing I could get my servos on that glitch.

"Just that you took payments for your medical services in an…ill-mannered way," he soothes, obviously sounding like that was the craziest thought.

How was he supposed to know that Knockout was at least correct in that statement. It chilled me to the struts. Optimus didn't know how the bartering system in our community went. He didn't understand that that wasn't taking advantage of someone with the drones; he wouldn't understand that it was completely normal when you had nothing else to give.

"Thank you, for telling me, Optimus," I whisper, suddenly feeling centuries older.

"You're welcome, old friend."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Dante!"<p>

I glanced up from my repairs to find Sermin looking down at me from the upper level. "Sermin, hey," I say as I continue my work. "You need something?"

He leans on the railing, a delicate tilt to his helm. "Ratchet wants to see you in his room," he comments casually. It was still a little disconcerting to see him so relaxed and confident. Neither had said anything but we all had noticed the growing bond between Gabe and Sermin. If they weren't lovers yet then they would be soon.

Guilt rushed through after the sharp pang of jealousy lit through my spark. I should be happy for them, as a friend and teammate. "They're back from the meeting already?" I ask, checking my internal clock. Slag, I'd been down in the bowels of the Nemesis for almost half the cycle! I had been so focused on my work that I hadn't even noticed the time running away. "Tell him I'm on my way."

Sermin nods, then disappears.

I start to crawl my way out of the piping carefully, thanking whatever God would listen for my slender build. Then again, that was probably all by design. It was hard to believe that I had missed out on this for most of my function; I enjoyed working on the piping, creating blue-prints for upgrades and repairing the ship. I mourned the fact that so many of my kind had lost that chance so long ago.

My pedes carried me to the other side of the Nemesis at a leisurely pace. The news of Shockwave's impending arrival was…frightening, to say the least. I understood the plan to keep us from being enslaved again but I worried that it might not work. Shockwave was a devious mech and wickedly intelligent. He and Soundwave were once Megatron's most loyal and most effective followers.

Would I lose this freedom?

I knocked on Ratchet's door. "Come in," he calls firmly.

Entering my own private code, I walk into the room. He was sprawled haphazardly on the couch with a cube of high-grade in his servo. "That bad?" I soothe, slipping down next to the older mech slowly. His helm was leaned back, optics closed. He looked centuries older with those creases between his optic ridges. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Am I a terrible mech?" he asks so softly I almost don't hear him. It was a moment of weakness that flattered and shocked me. Through this entire ordeal he had been the strongest of us all; he was confident and fiercely passionate. Sure, he had his moments of vulnerability but this was like hearing a hero admit to high-grade addiction.

I reach forward and soothe the lines between his optic ridges softly. "Primus, Ratchet, where did this come from? Of course you're not a terrible mech," I breathe, setting the cube of high-grade down on the table so he didn't spill it. "You freed an enslaved people, gave us hope, helped get rid of Megatron and negotiated a treatise with the humans. I would say you're the best mech I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

He opens his optics slowly and I see the pain there. "Dante," he sighs, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me into his lap. Heat flashes across my form but I don't protest when he presses his face into my spark chamber. I merely wrap my arms around his neck; if he needed some physical comfort, it was the least I could do for him. "I grew up in a completely different world. It's just…"

Understanding blossomed so suddenly it made me dizzy. "Did someone accuse you of…mishandling us?" I ask as politely as I can. The thought of Ratchet, our savior and friend, taking advantage of any one of us was ridiculous. He had been nothing but chivalrous.

His large sigh is warm against my chest-plate. "Optimus told me Knockout was spreading filth about me to the Autobots," he explains, pulling me still closer. "He told Optimus that I used you as toys for my own sick pleasures. Primus above."

My energon boiled in my chassis at the thought. "Ratchet," I say firmly, cupping his face in my servos to make him look at me. "You have abused no one on this ship. No one. Do you hear what I'm saying?" His optics stare into mine with uncertainty. "We live by a different code of conduct than Cybertronians. We became this way to survive. Our rules, our community, were all based on that goal."

"They'll see your form of bartering as prostitution," he admits with a wince. "It was illegal on Cybertron."

The cultural differences between us was astounding. Trading an intimate service for goods or a favor was normal on the Nemesis among our ranks. It was hard to wrap my processor around the fact that it had been considered indecent on Cybertron. "They don't have to understand it, Ratchet. They just have to accept the fact that this is what our community does; this is how we function," I explain, stroking his neck cables tenderly. "Do you still see it that way?"

He chuckles dryly. "No, of course not." His fingers rub idle circles against my back. "I did at first. Then, I had to live by the rules of your community and saw the advantages, the justification." A smirk crosses his faceplates after a few moments of silence. "Besides, it has it's perks."

With a single look, he set my insides of fire. It was unfair how much power he had over me at times. "O-Oh?" was all I could reply with. Why couldn't I be eloquent with my words like Gene? Why couldn't I have Gabe's unwavering confidence and heady air of interface-appeal? I wasn't even obnoxiously adorable like Sermin!

Normal. I was dreadfully normal.

Then, I held his gaze. That intense stare said I was anything but normal. There was desire in his optics as he slowly leaned forward; he was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered at this very moment. It was intoxicating, that look. I could drown in his want; I could stare into that expression forever and never grow weary of it.

"You think too much," he chuckles.

My retort was cut off when a strong, broad servo pulls me forward by the back of my helm. His kiss is fierce and dominating, so very different than what I expected from the Medic. I expected a gentle, rolling kiss with plenty of exploration. Instead, his passion threatened to smother me in heat and arousal until I was an incoherent mess.

His servos ran down the very edges of my wings and I couldn't help but jerk my hips against his. Tingles of arousal shot down my systems as deft fingers started to rub harder, drawing a desperate moan from my derma. He broke the kiss to trail his talented mouth down my neck cables until my body was on fire.

Our panels almost popped open at the same time when my bucking hips became too much for the both of us. "Definitely not taking advantage of you," he chuckles breathlessly in my receptor. I try to reply but it's lost when his large servo wraps around our spikes, stroking them in tandem.

The friction was beautiful and he had to keep his free servo pressed against the small of my back to still my desperate hips. Had I the coherency of mind, I would have had the decency of humiliation. I was acting like a wanton new model in their first interface but it didn't seem to bother Ratchet. Actually, he was staring up at me with a rapt admiration that only spurred me on.

The servo on my back drifts down until I feel a blunt digit pressing at my valve. My vocalization was loud as it breached my core. "R-Ratchet, please!" I beg shamelessly. His servos drive me wild with heat and passion until I can barely see. "I-I…"

"Tell me what you want, Dante," he whispers into my receptor. I could practically feel his voice raking down my systems, leaving fire in its wake.

"P-Please, s-spike-" is all I can manage.

I stare into his intense optics as he wraps my legs around his waist. In one fluid motion, he jerks his hips up and pulls my hips down. My scream was loud but I couldn't help it as pleasure rushed through my entire body, frying my processor.

He doesn't stop there either, his servos and hips are moving both of us until we are set in a rhythm that has my insides curling. Oh Primus, I want to last longer but I can already feel my orgasm building in the pit of my fuel tanks. This was something I had been putting off for far too long. I should have done this right after we kissed the first time.

"Frag, Dante," he curses softly into my neck. One servo was wrapped over my shoulder to pull down while the other was on my hip to push up. It was a syncronization that nearly did me in as I started to roll my hips. The fireworks in my body were driving me over the edge.

"R-Ratchet!" I scream as my overload hits hard. I convulse for a few moments before I feel Ratchet moan my name and spill his tranfluids into my valve.

I must have fallen asleep for a few moments before when I came back to the real world, I was lying in Ratchet's berth. "Hey, thought I lost you," he chuckles, stroking my back gently. It was comfortable, lying half on his chest plate so I didn't move.

"Mm, just…tired," I mumble against his neck cables softly. He merely nods his helm, idly stroking circles across my wings. It was really soothing and I found myself drifting toward recharge. "This isn't wrong, Ratchet."

He kisses the top of my helm. "I know, Dante," he whispers. "I know."

* * *

><p>Gene met me outside when I stepped through the portal. He wasn't alone this time but when my portal opened, his optics shifted to me instantly. "Thanks, Gene," the smaller mech smiles before disappearing into the Nemesis.<p>

"Welcome to the Nemesis, Prowl," he smirks, offering a servo.

I promptly returned the gesture firmly. "Good afternoon, Gene," I greet, optics lingering warily on the ship. "I hope you have prepared the other…mechs for this process."

He nods, gesturing for me to follow him up the ramp and into the ship. "Yes, I have given us a two hour grace period to set the coding then we will start with Vehicons, followed by Eradicons and finish with the Miners. They have all been notified of the timetable," he explains, leading me down several hallways. He looked as if he understood the inner workings of the ship like his own coding and I was heavily impressed.

That, and the Nemesis looked impeccable. There were mechs at every turn doing something productive within the ship. I saw some working with piping and another group sitting around a bunch of blueprints that seemed to depict an upgrade to the ship's core. All of them turned to greet Gene. It was obvious the mech had status even if he was met with a casual feel of companionship.

I assumed a group that had gone through so much strife would be familiar with each other enough to skip the formalities. Still, it unbalanced me. I was used to a military lifestyle. My Creators had been in the military so it was only normal that I be exposed to that way of life early on in my function. It just seemed like the best place for me; it was the only place I belonged.

Seeing the respect without a title was…odd, to say the least. It seemed to fit the tactician, though. He was laid back in a professional sort of way; he took his business very seriously and enjoyed working. I could relate. Being idle was never an option for me.

"I hope you don't mind that we use my own private quarters," he speaks up as we go deeper into the Nemesis.

The thought should have set me on edge. I was, after all, following the enemy into the guts of a ship that I didn't know as well. It should have set off warning bells…instead, I felt completely at ease, comfortable, even, with the young mech. To add to the confusion, his offer to hold this in his private berthroom didn't make me wary. The mech had yet to make me uncomfortable. He genuinely seemed like a professional mech with a sense of right and wrong.

"I do not wish to intrude," I say, more out of common courtesy than hesitation. I didn't want him to think we had to do this in such an…intimate setting.

His step falters just a fraction. Had it been anyone else, they might have missed it. "No," he whispers, sounding as if he were in awe of the gesture. "You're not intruding."

Against logic, I pressed further. "Why do you sound so…surprised?" It wasn't until after it left my derma that I realized it might be perceived as rude. It was too late to take it back now.

He turned down a corridor that was lined with doors on all sides. This must be where the Generals stayed. I assumed the one at the end of the hall belonged to Megatron, at one point, and was now owned by the Head General, Gabriel. The revolution, while shocking, had been a huge success on all fronts. A full coup with only one casualty was nothing less than a miracle.

I knew he wasn't ignoring my question just…thinking it over. It made my respect for the mech raise only that much higher; it was a pleasant surprise to find someone who thought things through. It was intriguing how his faceplate expressed everything going through his mainframe. I came from a family that put a lot of effort to remain as stoic as possible no matter what the situation. It should annoy me, the way his face twisted in a thousand different ways.

It was rather endearing, actually.

He unlocked his door with a burst of code and gestured for me to enter first. I was no femme but I thanked him nonetheless before stepping through. It wasn't as barren as I had originally thought it would be. There were trinkets on a table across the room and some painting on the walls that were from Cybertron.

I walked over to one. It was familiar; I knew it well. "This is a piece done by Sunstreaker," I whisper, touching the soft palate fondly. "Back when the war was in its infancy." He doesn't respond as I move to another one that is more of a landscape. "This is Kaon before…"

"Before Megatron took over," he finishes after I hesitate. "It was a beautiful city before the war. Ratchet's told us some stories about it; this was in Megatron's belongings. I just couldn't bring myself to throw it away but it couldn't stay in Megatron's quarters."

My optics turned a little to catch his. "Why?" I find myself asking involuntarily.

He grows tense so suddenly it takes me by surprise. "Ratchet moved into his room and…we didn't want anything in there to bring back painful memories," he answers vaguely. He knows I can hear an underlying meaning but I leave it be; it was none of my business, honestly.

"Ratchet moved into Megatron's quarters?" I change the subject easily. He visibly releases some of the tension from his form.

"Not without some insistence, that's for sure," he chuckles lightly, moving to the couch on the other wall. I can see there is a door to another room, which must be where his berth is. It's an impressive room for someone how used to live in barrack-esque living conditions before. I can't help but be impressed.

I sit down next to him and we instantly get down to business. The coding goes well on the data-pad; he's quick to find errors and I have a quick servo at writing code. The two of us together got the entire thing fixed within one hour, which gave us plenty of time to triple-check our work. He didn't seem to mind where many others became irate when I suggested such self-checks.

"Alright, now to try it out," he says before opening the data-port on his inner arm.

My fingers pause in their typing on the data-pad to glance over. "Do you think it wise to use yourself as a test subject?" I can't help but question. Why did I do it? It was logical. It was highly logical but worry flooded my systems along with something completely uncharacteristic:

Self doubt.

He quirks an optic ridge curiously. "I'm sure. I won't risk anyone else on the off chance that our code isn't perfect," he explains, taking my servo to press it to his data-port. It made me tense slightly but not because of discomfort but because of how warm and smooth his metal felt against my fingers.

We both looked up at the same time and I felt the electricity that bounced between us so acutely I almost did something irrational. I had this foolish urge to lean forward and kiss this mech. There were so many things wrong and illogical in that desire. He was the enemy; he was a drone; I had only met him yesterday; and so many other things berated me in my processor.

With all of those things running through my analytical processor, one thing over ruled every bit of that. It started like a dull roar then slowly got louder until it infected every inch of my processor and festered in my spark. It was highly illogical and extremely irrational but it was so simple:

I wanted to.

Such a simple idea that it made my spark ache with longing. I wanted to find out what his derma would feel like against mine. How would he react to such an intimate display? Would he shove me away or grab my shoulders to jerk me forward? I could imagine what his slighter body would feel like under mine as I took complete control and did unspeakably distracting things to him.

"Prowl?" his soft voice pulls me out of my disastrous thoughts so that I could plug the data-pad's jack into his arm.

We stay silent for a long time as the code downloads into his system. I stare at the code so that I don't gawk like a sparkling at the mech. It would be foolish to say that there wasn't something between the two of us but I wasn't sure I liked it. No, that was a lie. I was thoroughly enjoying our intelligent conversations, the way he could keep up with my thought processes. I wasn't sure if I wanted to admit that I was…growing weak for this mech, this Decepticon, this drone, this…

"Until Ratchet," his voice nearly breathes, cutting through the silence as if he had screamed it. "No Autobot or Decepticon had ever treated me as an equal. Most would just barge in here without a second thought."

Ah, we were going back to what had happened earlier.

He pauses, staring at the opposite wall blankly. "It's just…nice to know this change is possible," he says so softly I almost miss it. My servo clenches on my data-pad. "I hope that your people can start to see mine as equals."

My body moved on its own until I was pressing the mech back, pinning him down to the couch with my faceplate mere inches from his. He was shocked, optics bright and wide, waiting on bated breath for me to make another move. I just gazed down at him. I took in every inch of his plain faceplate that seemed more attractive to me than any other I had ever witnessed. His optics were red but they were full of so much intelligence and a strange understanding of what was going through my processor.

"As far as I'm concerned," I finally find the coherency to say. "You're more than my equal."

He barely gets his mouth open to respond before I slant my derma over his. It was a release of so much pent up tension that I nearly moaned with it. How could so much frustration have built up over just one night? Was this moving too fast? Did it matter? Did I care?

When his arms wrapped around my neck and pulled me closer, I answered my own question.

No. Primus, I didn't care.

"You work fast," he gasps out playfully when we finally pull away. His optics were bright and his faceplate obviously heated. "I always heard you had traded your interface array for more processor space."

I had to laugh at that and I did freely. "Is that what they say?" I chuckle, pressing my forehead against his.

He rubs soft, distracting circles against my door-wings before answering. "That's what Knockout used to say," he shrugs nonchalantly.

In a moment of characteristic suicide, I grind my interface panel against the drone's. The low, desperate, needy sound he makes is aural pleasure. "I can promise that my interface array is in fine working condition," I smirk, watching his faceplate contort in unrestrained bliss. It wasn't a pleasure emotion…no, it was starting in the spark and spreading out from there…

Oh Primus was I falling helm over pedes.

His lithe body arched off of the couch beautifully, his knees spreading to better accommodate my hips. It made my panel heat to the point of pain. "I don't know, you might have to prove it," he teases with a sultry, sexy look on his faceplate.

"And I'm the one who works fast?" I tease, burying my faceplate in his neck cables to savor their taste.

I was so caught up in his sweet little moans that I didn't hear the door open for a few good seconds until a vocalizer was cleared. My helm jerked up to find a smug looking Medic standing there with his bulky arms crossed over his spark chamber. Behind him was the drone I had seen with Gene when I stepped out of the bridge in front of the Nemesis.

"Well, this is a nice surprise. Weren't you two supposed to be fixing some code?" he questions, sarcasm thick on his vocalizer.

My faceplate heats but I push it back and control my emotions. "We have already finished the coding," I say, slowly getting off of the mech to stand.

Gene doesn't look surprised as he sits up to glare playfully at the two over the back of the couch. "You could warn a mech," he reprimands the two without much bite. "Besides, we have plenty of time before any of the Vehicons get here."

The other drone clings to Ratchet's arm like a small sparkling but the older mech doesn't seem to mind, much to my surprise. I had seen Ratchet throw Sunstreaker and Sideswipe for even trying to hug him, let alone cling to him. It was like he was a new mech, completely different than when he was an Autobot. It was…warming.

"Well, the code seems to be sitting well in my systems," Gene mutters after a moment. He had the data pad in his lap and was skimming over his own data. "It seems like a success."

Ratchet shrugs. "We'll find out, I guess," he comments just as the door opens again.

This time, a larger mech walks through. He was at least a helm taller than Ratchet and much wider than any of his brethren. He must be the new military general, Gabriel; he had to be. He was a monster of a drone and had one hell of a scar across one side of his face. "Prowl," he gives a slight nod of his helm in my direction. "Welcome to the Nemesis."

Wow, his voice was…something else. I don't think I had heard a voice that smooth since Jazz last sang. I wasn't much for music but Jazz had a sultry vocalizer when you put it to a harmony. "Thank you, General," I say with a nod. "I have to say this is the best condition I have ever seen the Nemesis in."

A slow smirk crosses his faceplate as he walks up to Ratchet's side. "This is all thanks to Ratchet," he drawls languidly, wrapping an arm around the Medic's waist to pull him close. I try to keep my face from showing my surprise but Ratchet only rolls his eyes at the mech's affection. "Without him, none of this would be possible."

The small one laughs brightly. "I don't know what we would do without him," the younger one dotes shamelessly, easing his way up until the older mech's arm was wrapped around his shoulders.

I understood the threats behind all of this very clearly. They were telling me just how protective they were of their Medic and of their Tactician. It was all very obvious and it was strange to see such community in the Decepticon ship. Even the Autobots had never had this kind of unity. We were merely soldiers but this group of mechs was…so solid, so close.

"It is good to see him finding mechs who truly appreciate his talents," I smile slightly with a curt nod.

After a few moments of silence, Gabriel nods his helm. "As long as I'm here," he comments, moving over to sit on the couch. It made the furniture look tiny. "Let's get this over with." He offers his arm.

I understand the gesture as a show of friendship. "Very well," I say and get to work.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, so, I'm sorry for any typos or errors! I'm so tired! xD I'm going to bed now!

I hope you all enjoy it! :D


	32. Intermission: Ratchet's First Halloween

**Ratchet's First Halloween**

Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual content

Pairing: RatchetxSmokescreen

Universe: Prime

Episode: Between episodes.

Description: Ratchet never thought doing charity for the humans would end up like this.

* * *

><p>"Let me get this straight," I say slowly. "You dress up in strange outfits every year at this time?"<p>

The five humans were sitting on the ledge right next to the console where I working. Halloween was right around the corner, which shouldn't be a concern of mine but it was definitely an interesting topic. On Cybertron, we had holidays but never those where we would take on different guises.

"That's right! It's the best holiday of the year! You get to dress up like monsters and witches and all sorts of scary things!" Miko exuberantly states in that loud voice of hers. I swear, it was like she didn't have a voice level other than 'obnoxious'.

I glance away from the screen, quirking an optic ridge. "Why would you do that?" I finally find myself questioning. With the others out on scouting duty, it was my job to watch over the humans. Thankfully, June and Agent Fowler were here to help with their rambunctious dispositions.

"To get candy!" that was Miko of course.

"Actually," Raphael interrupts, pushing his over-sized glasses up against his face. It was a terrible thing that his glasses were unproportional to his face; perhaps, I could convince Agent Fowler to use some of the money we make from the government to get him a new pair. I knew his family was a full one and didn't have the kind of money for a new pair for him. "It's an old tradition that dates back a really long time ago. At one point, people believed that All Hollow's Eve was the day when the barrier between this one and the next was thinnest. So to confuse the demons and ghouls coming through, they would wear masks and costumes. It was to make the demons think they weren't humans but one of their kind."

It makes more sense than any of the other explanations. "So, where does candy come into the equation?"

June was the one who answered this time. "We don't necessarily believe in those old beliefs anymore so we just kind of turned it into a day for the kids to dress up and go out Trick-or-Treating. They go door-to-door and say 'trick-or-treat' to get candy," she chuckles, leaning up against the railing casually. She was in street clothing today, which was a rare sight. She was usually working to keep up her single-parent household.

"Trick-or-Treat? What if the person chooses 'trick'?" I ask, a little worried.

"There was this one time last year where our neighborhood had this guy dressed as Jason who went around with a chainsaw," Jack laughs. I must have made a horrified face because he paused. "Oh no, Ratchet, he took the blades off! It was just to make a loud noise to scare us kids!"

I felt relief replace the tension. "Why would you want to be scared?" I can't help but wonder aloud.

"It's fun!" Miko supplies rather adeptly. "It's not real so it's just nice to be scared every once in a while!"

"That doesn't sound like fun," I point out, completely forgetting about the calibrations to the ground-bridge I had been working on. It wasn't like they were going to get fixed right then anyways. "Why are you telling me all of this anyways?"

Agent Fowler decides to clear his throat at that moment. "Some of my higher-ups think it'd be a good idea to have you guys do some charity work while you're here," he explains, earning an odd look from me. "What I'm trying to say is...we'd like you guys to do some work with kids this Halloween. It's easy, nothing as difficult as fighting MECH or Decepticons, promise."

I suddenly feel like I've walked into a trap even Megatron couldn't escape. "What kind of charity?" I find myself asking slowly.

"Our base military base does a 'Trunk-or-Treat' for the military-brats and local orphanages and shelters," he explains easily.

"Trunk-or-Treat is a lot like Trick-or-Treat but people bring their cars and fill the back with candy so that the kids can walk around in a safe area getting candy. They still dress up and get to meet other kids as well," June further explains with that soft smile of hers. "The base does it for kids in need and they think it'd be great if you guys would help out this year."

I bristle slightly. This means I would have to deal with more kids. "How many kids will there be?" I finally ask, a little worried.

Agent Fowler and June exchange glances. "At least a hundred," the agent rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Oh no, I'm not letting a whole bunch of sticky little kids put their hands all of over me!" I huff in disapproval. "I already have to deal with these three and their more than a servo-full already!"

"Come on, Doc!" I jolt when an arm was wrapped around my shoulders and Smokescreen was standing there beside me. When the slag had he came in?! I hadn't even heard him! "You already got a lot of junk in your trunk! A little more won't hurt!"

"Smokescreen, I swear to all that is-AH!" I jump when his servo lands playfully on my aft, sending heat up to my faceplate instantly. "Smokescreen!"

The youngest recruit laughs before hiding behind the human's. "See what I did there?" he asks giving Miko a very lop-sided fist-bump.

"Junk-food in his trunk, very nice!" Miko encourages him with a sharp laugh.

June glares at the two harshly but smiles at me. "Just think about it Ratchet, the others have already agreed but we'd love to have you there too," she soothes gently. "It's just for one night and you don't have to interact with the kids if you don't want to."

"Aw, I think the Doctor is just scared of a bunch of little human kids," Smokescreen patronizes me some more.

What I wouldn't do for a wrench right about then. "Fine, I'll go but if they try to climb all over me, I'll leave," I snap, turning back to my console to ignore the obnoxious laughter from Smokescreen.

* * *

><p>There were literally kids everywhere! I'd never seen so many little humans in one place before and I couldn't help but find them all incredibly adorable with their masks and costumes. All of us had decided to dress our holo-forms up for the holiday and the kids ate it up!<p>

Arcee was helping June with giving out bags for the kids coming in and helping parents keep up with their children. The two-wheeler had decided to dress her brunette holo-form up like a female version of some super-hero that wore all green, a mask and a ring; I think she had said it was a 'Green Lantern', whatever that meant. June was dressed in her smocks as a nurse, which I tried to convince her away from but she refused. It still worked out pretty well.

Bulkhead's holo-form was dressed as a giant monster of some sort with bright green skin and bolts coming out of his neck. Miko had said it was an old character called 'Frankenstein' but I still thought my costume was better. She was helping out her partner in a mean looking zombie-rock-star outfit that she had made herself; her skin was all pale and she was covered in blood but dressed like a Japanese-rock-star (her description, not mine).

I glanced over at Bumblebee who was standing with Raphael. His holo-form, like mine, was a huge hit with all the young-adult females. He had a messy head of blond curls, big blue eyes and a sweet smile that set all of the older sisters and younger mothers to mush right there. To accommodate for his lack of speech-capabilities Raphael had helped him learn some sign-language, which the young human translated for everyone. He was dressed up as some human super-hero, Captain-something-or-other-patriotic. He was wearing a lot of blue and a lot of red with a huge star across his chest. Raphael was dressed up as a robot that looked a lot like Bumblebee, which was really cute.

Optimus Prime was standing over with his vehicle mode, which, for the occasion, had a trailer hooked up to the back so that he could have a trunk. The kids were all over his big-rig wanting to sit inside and honk the horn and it was funny to see the Prime's holo-form lifting kids up into his compartment. He had decided to be a vampire, which worked with his tall, broad-shouldered holo-form. Somehow, his shape just matched the costume perfectly.

Jack was helping Agent Fowler out with registering kids and giving their parents or guardians or chaperons tickets that needed to be tagged at every station. It was to make sure that all the kids got their fair share, to keep it fair. I had my own hole punch that I had to use on all the kid's tickets. Jack was dressed up as a very scrawny Batman but all of the kids loved it nonetheless. Agent Fowler had gone with a mafia gangster complete with the pin-stripe suit and fake Tommy-gun; he looked pretty slaggin' good too!

I had to say though that my costume kicked all of their afts! My holo-form was tall, lean and totally sexy with messy black hair, dusty skin, and dark eyes that made all of the ladies melt. I was dressed in a skin-tight body-suit that race car drivers wore on the track; I made sure that it matched my vehicle-mode's paint job and it was a real hit with the kids...and their mothers and sisters.

I glanced over at the ambulance a good few meters across the circle we all made with our alt-modes and couldn't help the smile that crossed my face. Optimus had somehow convinced the old Doctor to get involved with his holo-form as well. He was standing at the back of his alt-mode, helping a child up into the back of his cab. His holo-form was pretty ordinary with short auburn hair, a very rugged face that had some age to it and heavy green eyes. He was of average build and height without any distinguishing features but the small peppering of freckles on his face and hands. I guess he was supposed to be Irish in descent but it somehow worked for him.

Of course, he was dressed as an EMR driver and the kids kept asking questions about everything and, to my great surprise, Ratchet was rather patient with them. He didn't even mind when some of the younger kids wanted to be picked up to touch his stethoscope. I had to admit that it was slaggin' cute to see him all soft with the kids and even caught a quick glimpse of a smile here or there. He was having fun, he just didn't want to admit it.

I couldn't help but find it incredibly sexy to see the mech who was usually so grumpy with our resident humans acting like a Creator. Maybe it was just because I was in my prime to start having sparklings but the thought of having little me's and Ratchet's running around was... exhilarating. I would never openly admit that thought to anyone even if it meant my life but I enjoyed watching Ratchet allow the kids to crawl all over his cab and his holo-form. There was just something about seeing a Bearer with children of any kind that set a Sire off.

After what seemed like a hundred thousand kids, the area was all clear. We helped clean up the trash and June, thankfully, was taking care of our human children by driving them back to their individual homes. Even at the end of the night there were a couple of parents and representatives of the organizations still around.

One walked up to Ratchet and shook his hand enthusiastically. "Thank you so much for everything you did today. You don't know how great it is for the kids in my shelter to have this opportunity. They're always talking about Halloween and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take them out this year," she gushes, making the Doctor very uncomfortable. "Thank you."

His holo-form flushes darkly up his neck and across his ears. "You are...welcome," he finally stammers, embarrassed.

It was sweet to see someone giving Ratchet some much needed praise. I may give him a hard time but he worked his aft off for us; slag, he probably worked harder than all of us combined! I'm sure this was gratifying for him, even if he didn't admit it.

* * *

><p>I was getting too old for this kind of thing.<p>

Did they think I was a baby-sitter? I couldn't help but think as we stepped into the ground-bridge, back in the base. We all went our separate ways quietly, each just as tired as the last. I stopped at the console to shut everything down except for the emergency alarm and didn't notice the other mech until he was right up on me.

"You know, you did pretty good with those kids today," Smokescreen whispers in my audio receptor.

My struts tighten but I don't move for fear I'll back right into him. His personal field was brushing and swirling with mine so he had to be nearly against me. "Go to recharge, Smokescreen," I say in a clipped tone of voice. I didn't like feeling pinned and the heat radiating off of him was suffocating, to say the least.

"You need to recharge too," he points out with a soft chuckle, the air from it washing over my sensitive neck cables. The pleasure that rushed through my system shouldn't have shocked me so much. "Come on, I'll tuck you in."

There was a lilt to his vocalizer that did nothing for my nerves. "Smokescreen, I swear to Primus," I mutter, turning around to face the mech. That...was a bad idea. There was this look in his optics that pinned me to the spot. It was a look of pure, unadulterated desire that knocked me off guard. "Uh...Smokescreen...why are you looking at me like that?"

He smirks in that slow, confident way that he does. "I don't know, I guess it's just really hot to see you react like a Bearer with kids?" he says in a voice that slides across my metal chassis like fingers. How had he known I was a Bearer? There were very few who knew and even fewer who would peg me as one.

"How'd you know?" I find myself asking even as his fingers truly were sliding across my hip. My first response was to brush it away but I hesitated when I felt him dip into a seam to play with a wire there. Primus, it felt good.

He shrugs casually, gripping my hips firmly to bring my pelvic to his in a slow grind that lit me on fire. "Just a hunch," he smirks, pressing his forehead against mine. "So, you're room or mine?"

The question snaps me out of my pleasure induced coma. "No," I say, pushing at the mech's shoulders enough to get some air unclogged by his heat. "No, no, no. We can't do this."

His servo wraps around my wrist gently to keep me from running away. "Why not? We're both consenting adults who can make our own decisions," he points out with a gentle smile, not a smirk this time. It sent a pang of pleasure, strange and foreign, through my spark and straight to my codpiece.

"You are barely an adult, Smokescreen!" I stutter in shock at the pleasure that was coursing through my frame. "And I'm-I'm-"

He rolls his optics, knowing what I was about to say. "Shut up, Doc," he chuckles as his servo jerks me forward against his sturdy form. "Just admit that you think I'm hot. Because, all age aside, you're pretty damn fine."

"Smokescreen let me-AH!" I jerk my hips forward in response to the servo that gives a smarting smack to my aft, again. This time, our codpieces grind in a hard, indelicate way that had me nearly choking on my words. "Stop that!" It was a weak protest even as his servos were rubbing gentle circles across my aft. For someone so young, he had talented servos.

"Come on, Ratch, you're being hard-headed," he teases, nuzzling against my sensitive neck cables. "I promise you won't regret it."

I can't help the gasp as I am lifted, bodily, and set up on the edge of one of the higher levels like I weigh nothing. My mouth opens to protest just as he dips down and runs his glossa up my heated panel cover. The protest turns into an embarrassing moan that I can no more take away than I can stop the mech. His servos gently press my legs open a bit wider to have better access.

"Like that?" he breathes against the panel. It sends heat and electricity across my sensors, lighting my entire frame on fire. I can't even answer him for fear that my vocalizer will fail me. "Come on, Ratch, open up for me." I barely have time to think before my panel opens on its own accord as if understanding his offer. "Oh Primus that's hot."

His words were a sort of compliment that had me glancing down to see the look on his faceplate. It was an odd mixture of awe and excitement that reminded me, yet again, just how young he was. "Smokescreen..." I start but can not finish it before his glossa is drawing lazy circles across the rim of my valve. "O-Oh slag..."

He is smirking, I can nearly feel it as he teases me so sweetly with his glossa. My spike was fully pressurized and painfully hard but I was more worried about the way he was pressing into my valve, teasing the sensors right at the entrance. "Slag you're so wet," he comments as he pulls away. I hold back the sound of disappointment. "And tight. I can't wait to spike you, Ratchet. It's all I've been able to think about since getting here."

I was not usually one for dirty talk during interface but something about the way his voice dipped low and husky made my spike twitch. It didn't help that I was thinking about what it would feel like to have his spike in my valve right then without any preparation. I hadn't had a good frag in...forever. Truthfully, I hadn't been the valve-mech in centuries; I was usually more of a spike-mech even if I was a Bearer but I could get used to this.

My vocalizer hitched when I felt a finger slip into my soaked valve. "Oh frag!" I gasp, bucking uncontrollably into his finger. I needed more friction, more of that, anything!

"You're so slaggin' hot, Ratch," he continues to speak, urging me on. He presses his finger into me, hard, dragging it over sensors that I didn't even know I had. Needless to say, I have no coherency by the time he pushes another finger into me. "Frag, Ratch, I want you so bad. I'm going to spike you so hard you won't be able to walk!"

My valve clenches and spasms around his finger but before I can overload, he stops. "Smokescreen!" I can't help but groan in a voice that doesn't sound like my own. It was too desperate, too needy.

He leans up, slowly as his fingers rub small circles against the inside of my valve to keep the lubricants flowing. For someone so young, he knew exactly what he was doing. "Come on Ratchet," he whispers into my audio receptor. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it."

It was so intimately said, so devastating that I couldn't hold back. My resolve was all but shattered. "Y-You're spike," I whisper back, voice airy and small. He stops moving his fingers again and I know what he wants. "I want you to spike me, Smokescreen."

The groan he releases is beautiful but the sound of his panel opening was like Heaven. "Primus, Ratch," he whispers, pressing his spike against my valve to let me feel just how big around he was. "Is this what you want?" He barely pushes against my valve, teasing me until I was a writhing mess under him.

"Frag, yes just spike me already!" I snap even as his hips thrust forward to bury that huge shaft in my soaked valve. My back arches up as electricity lances my system. "O-Oh!"

There is no time for me to properly adjust before he is setting a rhythm of deep, languid thrusts. Oh but Primus do I love it! I find that the tight friction only made it better for me as I rolled my hips to get more of him. "Slag, Ratch, you feel so good!" he pants in my receptor, holding my legs open with his servos.

"S-Smokescreen, frag!" I nearly whimper, placing my servos on his shoulders for some kind of foundation. "Harder!"

He obeys instantly, turning his thrusts a little more forceful so that the sound of metal on metal filled the room. Had I a little more coherency, I might have the decency to be embarrassed but I was too far gone. I just wanted this young mech to frag me to completion and I was so close already. "Oh man, I'm not going to last much longer," he breathes out, moving my legs so that they were over his shoulders. "There we go."

My vision flutters as he uses one of his free servos to reach out and grab hold of my aching spike. "Smokescreen, Primus!" I gasp, lifting my hips so that he can have a better angle. "I-I'm so-"

"Overload for me, Ratchet," he nearly commands, optics on my faceplate when I bother to glance up. I should look away but the expression of absolute rapture was too much and I felt myself tip over the edge in a flash of white. "Oh yeah, just like that, frag. I-I'm close."

His warning comes just a few thrusts before his gush of hot transfluids. It was the most intense overload I think I had ever experienced and my body must have shut down for a good while because when I opened my optics I was lying in my berth. "Frag," I mutter even as I feel Smokescreen cuddling close behind me with his body wrapped around mine.

"Mm-hm," he hums, proud of himself, I'm sure. "Can this be a Halloween tradition?"

I roll my optics at the mech but can't find it in me to be annoyed. "I don't think that's how this holiday functions," I mutter, extremely tired. "Though, I think we might make it a tradition of some kind."

"Mm, I like the sound of that," he smirks against the back of my neck. "How about we continue this tradition in the morning?"

My snort wasn't quite in derision. "Shut up and recharge."

"Alright," he chuckles. "Happy Halloween, Ratchet."

* * *

><p><strong><span>The End<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: It's been a while since I posted anything so think of this TWO chapter post as a gift! I did this chapter as a contest entry on Deviantart and figured since it was Smokescreen and Ratchet, I'd just add it in here!

Hope you enjoy it! :D


	33. Bleed Like Me: Part 10 (Re-Write)

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones, GenexProwl

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual situations.

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>I dreamt of Shockwave. I saw my destroyed planet, my home, left in ruins with Shockwave in the middle. The last true obstacle in the way of peace and then I watched as a horde of Drones step up beside me. The others were there mixed in too; Prowl and Jazz and the others were all standing with the Drones. Slowly, the world started to become brighter and grass started to grow and tress started to come back. I watched my world slowly reboot after so long of death.<p>

"Ratchet?"

I jumped when a heavy arm wrapped around my waist to pull me back against a broad chest plate. How had I forgotten Gabriel had spent the night? "Yeah," I sigh deeply, leaning against him for support. "Just a…weird dream, that's all."

He hummed in understanding, burying his faceplate in my neck cables. It was comfortable and I couldn't help but look down at my other two berth partners fondly as well. It had become common for me to wake up with parts of my group nearly every night. Last night we had celebrated. It was a way to relax after a particularly tough afternoon but also a type of party for their total liberation of Shockwave's influence on their coding.

It was no surprise that Dante, Gabe and Sermin had ended up in my berth. I had invited Gene as well but he politely declined. He had it bad for Prowl and I kind of figured he would want to speak with Prowl about what kind of relationship they were growing into before breaching it. It wasn't as if the four of us had done anything, anyways. We were too overcharged and tired to be of any good to each other so we merely fell into recharge in a huddled mass of arms and legs. I found it quite sweet to be wrapped in-between Gabe and Dante; Sermin usually ended up separated from the rest of the group because he tossed and turned so much. He was on the far side of the bed, nearly hanging off. It was kind of cute, truthfully.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he whispers so as not to rouse the other two.

I thought for a few moments and sighed deeply. "The fight Optimus and I had wasn't the only reason I defected," I finally admit, feeling the weight on my chest grow a bit more out of anxiety. He merely hums again, kissing my neck cables fondly. "Shockwave took a team of Autobots captive right before our argument."

He rests his helm on my shoulder. "I still don't understand," he chuckles playfully, wrapping his arms tight around my waist.

"I wanted to defect so that I could somehow coax Megatron to bring Shockwave here or let me go to him. It's not necessarily the team itself but…someone on the team," I say slowly, stroking his arm gently. He holds onto me possessively, a tensing of muscles that makes me chuckle. "Nothing like that, she was my last apprentice and almost a daughter to me."

He relaxed a little.

"Shockwave might have found out about our relationship and captured her. He's probably interrogating her as we speak for some kind of weakness in the Autobots." My breath heaves out in a huge sigh. "I didn't know things would go this way. I didn't know I'd find a community…a home. I never did it to hurt you, I just-"

He is swift to jerk me back into the cradle of his arm, kissing me senseless in that domineering, intense way that he does. He takes the words right out of my mouth and makes my form heat on its own. "Shut up, Ratchet," he chuckles when he finally pulls away. I'm pretty much in his lap by this point, staring up at him in shock. "You care for her; she's special to you and to our cause. If there's one among our ranks who doesn't understand then they don't deserve you."

I feel my faceplate heat at the intensity of his words just as he is kissing me again. When he pulls away, I press closer to him, enjoying his comforting energy field and the way my burden lifted just slightly. "I had a dream of Shockwave on Cyberton. I saw all of the Drones and Cybertronians standing together as the world came back to life."

Gabriel thinks for a few long moments before answering. "Perhaps, it's a sign that one day we'll be able to return to Cybertron."

And I truly took comfort in his words.

* * *

><p>"I'm not fighting them, Prowl!" the arrogant twin shouted, crossing his bulky arms across his spark chamber. "They wouldn't last a minute with us!"<p>

I am tempted to roll my optics at them, a reaction picked up from the human children no doubt, but refrained. "I can assure you that they are highly trained," I point out just as a large group of drones file down the ramp from the Nemesis. My optics somehow fall right on Gene, standing in the midst of a herd of Eradicons; he should not have stuck out but I couldn't help noticing how confident his gait was and how his derma quirked in that tell-tale smirk.

Ratchet is leading the large group of Eradicons and Vehicons with the largest General, Gabriel, at his side. This is a community. I can see it now more than I could before. They are completely comfortable with each other and walk as one entity. The Autobots were in for a world of surprise; if this group lived so well together for such a long time then they were going to fight just the same.

"Prowl, welcome back," Gabriel greets with his smooth voice, offering a servo.

I easily shake it, keeping a close optic on the twins who were standing off to the side a little ways. The twins and First Aid were the only remaining members of my team but Optimus' team was here as well. Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Arcee and Smokescreen were standing not too far back. They were all in for a shock when they found out what these newly trained drones could do in a battle.

"Thank you for agreeing to this exercise," I state calmly before nodding to Ratchet.

It had been decided that it would benefit both sides to do some training exercises together before we fought Shockwave's drones. They would fight as a single unit and we, as of late, had been two separate parts of the same puzzle. We would need absolute coherency to defeat Shockwave; we, being the Generals of both factions, believed it would help our sides bond better as well.

"Alright, listen up," Ratchet shouts, silencing the twins almost instantly. Even if he had the Decepticon sigil on his chest, he still had some form of charisma with the Autobots. "This is going to be a friendly spar between both sides. We want to be able to run tactical drills and scenarios that will make fighting Shockwave easier. This is Gabriel, our Head General, he'll explain the rest."

"Thank you, Ratchet," I hear the large mech nearly purr into the Medic's audio receptor intimately before stepping forward.

It was getting easier to watch Ratchet allow such personal gestures but it was obvious at the expressions on the other Autobots that they were still clueless. I was curious as to what Ratchet's relationship with the drones was, honestly. Knockout had been saying such…uncharacteristic things about Ratchet. He was partial to describing gruesome rapes and orgies that went on with Ratchet and his obsessed followers. Seeing their affections for him up close and personal, I started to wonder if the stories had some sort of truth to them.

My optics drifted as Gabriel went into the rules of engagement to the Vehicon standing just a few steps away. I felt my spark jolt when our gazes connected in an almost palpable manner. He had this knowing look on his faceplate that had my insides heating rapidly. This was the first time I had seen him since we fixed coding together, which, truthfully, had only been a few days, but felt like a lifetime.

It made my faceplate heat. If the twins ever found out what I was thinking, they would never let me live it down for as long as long as they functioned. I could not think of a time in my function I had been this…confused and happy.

"What's with all of the rules, drone?" Sunstreaker speaks up, rudely interrupting the General. "You afraid we'll hurt your troops?"

Gabriel merely quirks an optic ridge in amusement before crossing his arms over his bulky chest. "No, I fear the opposite," he says in a rare show of arrogant confidence.

Sunstreaker and his twin are the only Autobots who seem insulted by such a comment, honestly. "Fine then take me on, right here!" the brightly painted mech challenges the General.

The mech turns to face the twin completely, letting all of us see his scars with definite clarity. He seemed more bored than impressed by the mech's shouting but I could see the fire in his optics light up brilliantly. "Very well then," he states with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

"Gabe!" Ratchet snaps in shock. It wasn't an angry gesture, just a surprised reaction. He even reached out to grab the mech's arm, jerking to bring the massive mech down a little. "You don't have to prove anything to those glitch-heads."

Sunstreaker chuckles loudly. "Aw, Ratchet's worried about the drone getting hurt!" he smirks even before I saw the thought pass through the Medic's optics.

It was a tense kind of anger that tightened his shoulder struts and made his optics narrow. I could hear the reprimand before it left his derma. "I'm not worried about Gabriel, you slagger!" he snaps harshly before turning back to the General.

Gabe just seemed entertained by the Medic's frustrated ranting. "Ratchet," he nearly whispers, reaching out to grab the Medic's chin gently in his large servo. "I'll hold back." His voice was smooth and very alluring when it dipped low like that.

We all watched in fascination as Ratchet's faceplate heated right before our optics. I do not ever recall seeing the mech blush; had I not seen it for myself…I probably would not believe it myself. He huffs loudly, crossing his arms over his spark chamber but allows the other mech to focus on the stunned twin.

"Well, come on then," Sunstreaker breaks from his shocked silence to say. "What are you af-"

All of us hardly see the giant drone move until the thrown punch lands firmly on Sunstreaker's cheek, throwing him back a good twenty feet. He was no sparkling, however, and using his momentum he pushed himself into a back-flip to land on his pedes. His servo snapped up to grab Gabe's next punch; his faceplate went from shocked to confident in an instant as they pushed, trying to make the other move.

I had never realized just how big Gabe was until he stood in comparison to Sunstreaker, one of our front liners. They were almost the same amount of mass and they were both built to deal and take a lot of damage. I was impressed more by the look of absolute joy on both of their faceplates; they had both found someone to match their strength and prowess, it seemed.

It was quite the match to watch that started to pull more drones from the Nemesis until it seemed that all of them were outside. There were some sitting on parts of the Nemesis or forming a circle around the fight that was kept in a small area by the two giants. It was a calculated fight, no doubt about it. Sunstreaker was not the brightest processor in our group but he definitely knew how to fight. He could see battles go through his mind in a split second like I saw strategies.

It wasn't until the spar started to last a little too long that I decided it was time to end it. "It is quite obvious that the two of you are on the same level," I point out, stepping between the two confidently. Both of the mechs were breathing heavily and I could see a few dents here or there that were just aesthetic problems, not detrimental to their health. "Shall we continue with the original mission?"

Gabriel barely took his optics off of the other mech but gave a curt nod. "Group One, step forward!" he called over his shoulder. "Let's run the first drill."

I stepped back to allow the General free reign of the field. It was obvious that the other Autobots had seen enough to respect the large drone's authority; the opposite was also true for the Decepticons. That, at least, was fixed. If we were to stand a chance against Shockwave's army then we needed cooperation between the two factions.

"They seem to be working well together," Gene comments, casually walking over to stand next to me while the others were distracted.

I keep my optics pointed forward for fear I might ogle the mech shamelessly. "That is correct," I smile, enjoying the way our personal fields brush intimately. "Sunstreaker may be an arrogant glitch-head but he is a competent warrior. Perhaps, he could learn some tact from your General."

Gene chuckles softly in response.

We watch the drills for a long time in silence, just basking in the company of the other. Talking when there was nothing to talk about was a waste of energy, in my opinion. It was, as the humans say, a breath of fresh air, to find someone who thought the same.

My optics followed the large General as he drifted back to the Medic's side. He leaned over, placing his derma against the mech's audio receptor, and whispered something with a grin on his faceplate. I felt myself grow curious when heat spread across the medic's faceplate for the second time today. Where had this Ratchet been? Was he this way before the war?

"What is their relationship?" I find myself asking shamelessly. Gene glances at me from the corner of his optic then back at his comrades. "They seem close."

He shrugs. "Ratchet fixed Gabe's busted vocalizer when no one else could," the tactician explains, his voice sounding a little strange. He was tense. Why was he tense?

"You know that is not what I refer to, Gene," I point out slowly, looking at the mech. "Knockout has…described scenarios."

His tension grows palpable. "Knockout is a glitch-head and a monster. Any slander he has thrown at Ratchet's good name is slag!" he whispers with a passion that warms me to the core. Why was it so arousing to see him riled up?

I reach out without thinking and touch his clenched fist. "Gene, you are speaking in riddles," I smile gently, coaxing his fist to unfurl so that I could tangle our fingers. It was an uncharacteristic gesture that shocked even myself but the others were too busy with the drills to notice.

His optics go distant for a few minutes before he heaves a heavy sigh. "There is a lot about our culture that you do not know," he finally admits, only aiding in my confusion. "We have lived in the Nemesis together for so long that we are, essentially, a community with our own rules and code of conduct. These differ from the way you were raised drastically."

"Ah," I respond, suddenly understanding a fraction of what he was saying. "All isolated communities resort to that way of life. Every society is different in the way they live their lives and cooperate with each other. That being said, I do not understand what this has to do with Knockout."

He refuses to look at me in the optics and it worries me. "We are a very close group of mechs, Prowl. We were given very little and what little we did have was shared amongst us," he tries to explain, obviously dodging something. "Goods were traded and seeing as we had so very little, we would sometimes trade with services."

"That is normal, Gene," I try to soothe the mech's tension.

His optics finally meet mine. "You don't understand. Sometimes the services were…intimate in nature," he finally admits.

Even with my quick processor, it takes a few seconds longer for everything to fall into place. They bartered for goods by means of…prostitution? "So the stories that Knockout told…" I whisper, trying to wrap my mind around the thought.

"Knockout called it rape, I'm sure, but we were all perfectly willing! It's the way we repaid him for his kindness and-"

"Wait," I cut him off sharply, pulling my servo away to get some distance. "We? Including yourself?"

The look on his faceplate made my insides curl. "Yes, I was included in that," he admits, straightening his back struts to stand proud. "It is our way of life, Prowl. We did not have the means to pay Ratchet for his hard work in any other way."

I was speechless. I knew this community was close but…and Ratchet joined in on it like he was one of them so easily. What was illegal on Cybertron was completely normal and even encouraged within the ranks of the drones. Part of me was disgusted by it…but another understood the logic behind such an agreement.

He stood there waiting for my response, proud and determined. "It is…a logical system of bartering," I finally whisper, watching some of the tension wash off of his form like water. "It will take some time to grow accustomed to but as long as you were willing…I see no breech of ethics."

"I'm glad," he sighs, relieved. "If we progress further in our relationship, whatever it may be, we will need to set guidelines that accommodate to my culture as well as yours." He hesitantly reaches out and takes my servo again. The warmth from him is soothing.

"I agree," I smile, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on his derma.

"Oh man, Prowl's pulling the moves on the drone General!"

I wince at the sound of Sideswipe's vocalizer, which, of course, shifts all optics to us. "What do the humans say…'cat's out of the bag?'" I mutter, earning a chuckle from Gene. "Not that it is any of your business, Sideswipe."

"His own kind's not good enough, I guess," Sunstreaker taunts though I know he doesn't really mean it the way it sounds.

Ratchet scoffs. "If you two are any indication, then they're not smart enough," he snaps, smacking both of the twins on the backs of their helms. "Now, get back to your drills, you glitches!"

"Ow! Primus, Ratchet!" the twins shout in unison but are smart enough not to argue.

"Well, since it's out in the open anyways," Gene mutters before I find myself being jerked into a kiss. This one was much more intimate and I let my arms wrap around the mech's waist to pull close. He was all heat and electricity that made my engine hum warmly. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

I press my forehead against his with a satisfied smirk. "One day I will prove just how functional my interface equipment is," I tease, slipping a finger slowly into a seam. He huffs out a breath of air at my ministrations but stays calm otherwise.

"I agree," he smirks, running a slow finger along the edge of my door wing. Pleasure was swift and hot through my systems but easily squelched so no one noticed.

"Can't you two wait until you're alone?"

"Sorry, we'll be good, Ratchet," Gene laughs brightly before pulling away. "Another time, another place."

* * *

><p>"I'm just worried about him, is all," I reiterate for the thousandth time since starting this shower.<p>

Gabriel hummed a little as Sermin and I worked to get him clean. "Gene can handle himself, Ratchet," he points out, leaning back against me as I dig at one of his seams where some grit had worked it's way under the armor. "Besides, he's happy and Prowl seemed to take everything well, considering."

"He's a good mech, Ratchet," Sermin joins in from his place opposite of me. He was currently sitting on the ground with one of the General's large pedes in his lap, scrubbing at the dirty metal. "He'll take care of Gene. You can't keep all of us to yourself! Speaking of which, those twins were pretty cute!"

I throw my dirty rag at the miner. "Don't you even think about it!" I snap, satisfied by the wet noise the rag makes when it hits his faceplate. "They're punks!" I push away any mental image of Sermin between the two twins as quickly as I can even as the two of them laugh.

"Ratchet," Gabriel soothes, taking my servo to kiss the palm lightly. I try not to flush too much. "This could be good for the two sides. If someone like Prowl can fall for a drone then anyone can. It's just the equality we need."

I sigh, wrapping my arms around the mech's neck to lean against his back. "Yeah, I know," I mutter, my voice muffled by his neck. "I'm happy for him."

We go back to cleaning the General in silence. I flick on the spout overhead to clean the sand off the mech's armor, watching the muddy water drain as it slips from him. I can't help but admire his broad shoulders and strong limbs. It's interesting how I had never really been all that interested in my own kind but Gabe could easily set my panel on fire with a single look.

"Be thorough, Sermin," Gabe's silky vocalizer rumbles in a tone that my body is conditioned to. I feel my valve clench even before I hear the distinct sound of his panel snapping open. I lean forward to get a better view and nearly glitch.

Sermin was on his knees in-between Gabe's massive thighs, looking at the pressurized spike. It was a picture that set my insides on fire. The young miner gains a coy smile as he looks up at us. "You're such a dirty mech, Gabe."

It's so uncharacteristic that it stuns both of us speechless. My core temperature was dangerously high and it only gets worse at the look on the miner's beautiful faceplate. He had this look of utter confidence that was so different from the first time I had met him.

Gabe is the first one to regain his vocalizer. "You should do something about that," he nearly purrs, reaching forward to trace a finger across Sermin's derma.

Our little miner parts his derma and we watch as he playfully takes the finger into his mouth. I moan out loud at the sight; Gabe tries to play it cool but I see the way his spike twitches. We were both enraptured by the display of uncharacteristic confidence as he makes a show out of his playful display.

"Slag, who are you?" I can't help but mutter as my own panel slips open.

Sermin merely smiles, falsely innocent, before leaning down to replace Gabe's finger with his spike. I watch the mech work, mesmerized by the beautiful, lithe body that ungulates with his mouth's motion. My servo barely alleviates the ache the display has placed in my core.

"Frag," Gabe mutters. "Ratchet, get over here." I hardly have time to move before he is shifting so that I can sit on the seat with him, my legs slung over his. My vocalizer glitches as our spikes rubbed together.

Sermin doesn't waste any time climbing up onto our laps. It didn't take a scientist to understand what Gabe wanted to try and it made me nervous. The miner's knees settled on the seat on each side of Gabe's thighs, servos on the General's shoulders; he pushed his aft out to showcase his slicked valve. "Ratchet," he moans, hardly a request but I understood the meaning nonetheless.

I wrapped my servo around Gabe's spike and helped to guide Sermin down. Both mech's were trembling but I couldn't do this without properly preparing the miner first. "Slowly, Gabe," I say, leaning up to trail kisses down the miner's spinal strut. Sermin moans as Gabe starts to slowly thrust into him, lifting him by his aft to make the movements as smooth as possible. "I'm going to add a finger."

The warning came just as I slipped my finger in next to the spike, stretching the valve even more. Sermin merely groaned, pressing back into my finger for more in a wanton need that left me aching. "A-Another, Ratchet," he whimpers sweetly. I press another into him, watching the valve stretch to accommodate my digits. I don't stop until three of my fingers are moving easily. "Please, Ratchet!" he begs as I pull away.

"I know," I soothe, pressing as close to the statue-still General. "Lift him, Gabe." The warrior does as commanded and I wrap my servo around both of our spikes to hold us steady. "Slowly." I use my free servo to guide the lowering until both of our spikes are being pressed into Sermin's tight valve.

"Oh slag," Gabe and Sermin say nearly in unison.

"Does…does it hurt?" I grit out, my body washed with pleasure from how tight the smaller mech was around my spike.

Sermin clenches onto Gabe's shoulders but doesn't back down. "A little but keep going," he states, determined.

Gabe twitches, just a fraction, causing all of us to moan at the multitude of sensations bombarding our bodies. The tight clench of Sermin's valve was coupled with the friction created by my spike rubbing against Gabe's until I was nearly seeing white. "I-I'm not going to last long," I admit aloud, leaning my forehead against Sermin's back.

The General merely grunts in agreement as he settles Sermin in our laps. "Don't stop, please, for the love of Primus!" the normally mind-mannered miner pleads, wiggling desperately.

I hardly feel Gabe's arms flex as he lifts the mech up then shoves him back down over our spikes. It's a feeling like none I had ever felt before. "Oh sweet Primus!" I nearly shout, digging my fingers into Gabe's knees to ground me.

His pace is merciless and Sermin's screams are much louder than mine, thankfully. We are all whittled down to incoherent sounds and noises until Sermin's body clamps down on us in his overload. I literally see white as I overload inside Sermin. Gabe follows mere seconds afterwards and we just sit there for a few minutes, leaning on each other in a mass of metal and struts.

It takes me a few seconds for my vision to come back online. "Why…why haven't we done that before?" I questions, wincing at the scratchy sound of my vocalizer.

"Who cares, as long as we can do it again!" Sermin exclaims, slowly sitting up. He winces as transfluid slips down his thighs. "Good thing we're already the shower."

Gabe gives an eloquent grunt as I help Sermin to clean up. I'm exhausted, just as I'm sure the others are, so we quickly retire to my room afterwards. We pile up on my berth, a tangle of arms and legs. Gabe falls into recharge almost before his helm settles, exhausted from his eventful day. Sermin cuddles up against my side, humming in a content satisfaction that only comes after an intense overload.

"I'm going to miss Gene," I finally admit, feeling a sharp pang of loss in my spark. It was hard to think that he would never share this berth with any of us again. I truly cared for all of the drones but this special group had stuck in a way the others hadn't. Could you call this love? Could you love more than one spark?

"We all will, Ratchet," Sermin whispers, sounding just as bereft. "We have to let him go, though. He's happy with Prowl."

I squeeze the mech closer to my body and sigh. "I know he is."

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: So, I know it's been like two years but I started re-reading my stories and decided it was about time to finish at least this one! I'm sorry, about updating the story by posting what I already have but I stopped writing because my muse hit a wall so I took out the stuff with Beta. I don't like it. It just ruined the flow of the story so I'm going to go back to the original plan. I want this focused on the Drones not side characters.

Hopefully I'll have the next part out soon! I hope I didn't lose most of my audience because of time! A lot has happened so I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing.


	34. Bleed Like Me: Part 11

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones, GenexProwl

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual situations.

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>"It's a pretty common offer, Prowl. I've already told you that," Gene states, still staring at the datapad in his servo. He was working on some coding for Dante that would help fix up the ship's systems. He always seemed to be working, which wasn't all that surprising for me; I was always working…until I met Gene, that is.<p>

I purse my derma slightly. "Would you even care if I agreed?"

Gene finally looks up at me, obviously humoring if the look on his faceplate was any indication. "Should it?"

Sometimes, the differences between our cultures were astounding. "I guess," I state, thoughtfully. On Cybertron and even on Earth, it was common for jealousy and possessiveness to occur when someone's lover was being hit on or propositioned by another person. "There's no jealousy within your ranks?"

Something dawns on his faceplate suddenly. "Do you want me to be jealous?" he smirks, devious and curious all at the same time.

"It's…a common emotion to feel when one's lover is being propositioned by someone else," I snort derisively. Jealousy and possessiveness were emotions I usually shunned, especially back on Cyberton, but now…

Gene stands up to take my servo. "Listen, Prowl, perhaps we should discuss the specifics of our relationship. We need some compromise to make this work," he smiles, pulling me back to sit on the couch. "It's extremely common for things like that to happen. You have to get used to the idea that Drones are going to offer the only thing they can to you. Especially, since you are the one helping to fix their coding."

I ease a little, being next to him. "They have things to offer now. High-grade, energon and services other than…that."

"Yes, but sometimes those things seem…miniscule in comparison to what was given," he points out easily, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me into his side. I easily slide into the crook of his body, enjoying the warmth of his proximity. "For someone to offer that so easily is a compliment, Prowl. Don't take it as an insult."

"I don't!" I insist, warming as he caresses my shoulder idly. "It's just…do I accept?"

He shrugs. "You don't have to if you don't think the trade is equal. You can offer something else instead or offer to hold off until you think of something comparable."

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, something eating at my processor. "Would you care if I accepted?"

He chuckles. "Prowl." He turns me so that we are looking at each other. "It's not like I don't hold you very highly or don't care who you interface with, please don't take it like that. Jealousy doesn't really exist in our society; we sleep with who we want, when we want and don't really take on permanent partners. Dante was a lover with Puck but that didn't stop them from interfacing with whoever they needed to repay. They weren't jealous; they knew it was a necessity but they always came back to each other in the end."

I think over his words and find them to be logical. I didn't want someone who was clingy anyways. "Okay, so it makes sense…we might just need to explain as much the Autobots so they understand. It'll take some time, especially for someone like Optimus, to understand the system but if it's your culture then we have to adapt. I just worry about someone like the twins taking advantage of it," I mutter.

Gene chuckles. "Don't worry, we're not stupid. We understand our bartering system more than anyone else. The person who got the initial gift or service must be the one to offer," he explains with a smile. "We're not docile anymore either so if we feel the trade isn't equal, we're allowed to decline or offer up an alternative."

It made sense so it put my mind at ease. Instead, I was worried about something else. If this was their bartering system then at some point Gene would be on one end of that deal. Could I handle the thought of my lover being with some other Drone? Or, Primus forbid, if someone like the twins offered him such a deal?!

"What?" he asks as my silence draws on. It was like he could hear my thoughts, my stress. Maybe I was tense. "What's going on in that processor of yours?"

I let out a long vent from my derma. "I'm trying to decide if I'm ready for this bartering system where you're concerned."

"Oh, I see," he nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, yet another human habit. "I guess that's up to you. It's not always interface that is traded in these deals, you know? Now, it's mostly other things and services since we actually acquired freedom. How do you want this to go?"

I think on it for a moment. Could I stand seeing him after I knew he had interfaced with someone? Would it bother me, for that matter? I wasn't even sure it would bother me. I wasn't much of a romantic bot back on Cybertron and the war had kept me from enjoying such frivolous things. I hadn't had a berthpartner in…Primus, I couldn't even remember the last time.

"Would you like me to show you how the system works?" he offers slowly.

My faceplate heats quickly. Show me? I can't understand. "H-How?"

He shrugs, "I had an offer not too long ago and I haven't given a response. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I brought along another person to…observe." I falter a little, stalling for time to think. "You don't have to decide right now. You can think it over. If it helps, the person is Sermin and I can introduce you to him if you like. I did some work to clear out his room before he moved in. I've been putting it off because of work and then you."

I feel a little curious. "So is the offering party the valve or…"

He laughs. "Ratchet asked the same thing! It doesn't matter," he shakes his head, amused. "If can be either depending on preferences. Gabe is more of a spike mech, Sermin is more of a valve mech and Ratchet's a switch."

"O-Okay, too much information about Ratchet but that makes sense. So…you would be the spike mech with Sermin?" I ask, conjuring an image of Gene holding the much more docile medic down. My body temperature spikes; was I sick for finding the image so stimulating?

His smirk tells me that he doesn't find it sick at all. "Should I tell him to come here later?"

"Would he mind?" I find myself asking without really meaning to. "I wasn't part of the original deal."

"I'll find out, hold on," he waves, turning to his comm-link. His face twists into the most devious smirk I'd ever seen on a mech and I was suddenly a little nervous. "He'll be here after duty. Do you have any plans?"

I can only shake my helm, shocked to silence.

* * *

><p>"What?!" Ratchet nearly spits out his energon when I tell him. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Prowl?! The one who constantly has a rod up his aft?"<p>

I smile, lying on my stomach on a table as the Medic worked on the tools in my servos. One of them had been damaged during the drills that morning; I couldn't very well do them on my own. I kicked my pedes in the air absentmindedly. "Yeah, that's what I thought too!" I giggle lightly.

"What'd you tell Gene?" he asks curiously. Was he worried for me?

"I said that I'd do it." The glare he gave me was dangerous but I merely ran a servo down the medic's faceplate. "You can't keep me _all_ to yourself, Ratch, you know that. Besides, if it helps him to understand our bartering system then it's for a good cause. He needs to understand that no one is being used."

He makes a face but relents. "You're right. If he and Gene are going to fit together then he has to understand and accept the culture of the Drones. Otherwise, their relationship won't work."

I lean close. "How is he?"

Ratchet sputters at the insinuation. "I have _never_ interfaced with Prowl!"

I laugh brightly. His reaction was exactly what I expected but I enjoyed teasing him. "I'll never understand the culture! If you have needs then you take care of them!" I state, pulling my servo away as the medic finishes up. "Besides, he's pretty hot!"

Ratch sighs. "Stop spending time with the humans, Sermin, they're slang is infecting your processor."

I smile and wrap my arms around the grumpy mech's neck from my spot on the table. "Don't be jealous, Ratch!" I coo, nuzzling his neck cables tenderly. He huffs without really saying anything. "You can come with me if you want!"

"I will not!" he snaps, reaching up to grab my servos as if he is about to pull them away. I hold him tighter. He finally relaxes in a small slump. "I'm just…worried, Sermin. He doesn't know and I worry that he'll…slag, I don't know! Prowl's not the type to take advantage of anyone…I'd be more worried about the twins."

Ratchet always seemed to be worrying for us when there was no reason to. "I'll be fine. Gene will be there to stop it if anything goes wrong. I'm sure it won't though. If Gene trusts Prowl then so do I."

He didn't seem to have a rebuttal and just nodded. "Okay, but if something goes wrong then come see me," he demands.

"Deal," I smile, kissing his cheek lightly before hopping off the table. "I'll see you later on, Ratch. I still have some things to get done before tonight. Take it easy, okay?"

He grumbles a response and goes back to what he is doing. He was so grumpy since Gene left our circle even though Gene was still quite friendly with him. I think he was getting too used to having so much attention and not having it was annoying. If anyone had told me that the medic would be so loving…I don't know. It just didn't seem like that when I first met him. Now…it was all so different.

I happened to pass Gabe as I was walking towards the door of the ship and smile. "Gabe!" I rush forward even as the large mech gestures for the Drones following him to disperse. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt something."

He shakes his helm. "You didn't, we just finished," he states, focusing completely on me. "You need something?"

"As a matter of fact, I do!" I smile, sidling up to his side easily to the giant mech. "Can you go visit Ratchet tonight to keep his mind preoccupied?"

He quirks an eye ridge in question. "Why?"

I smirk. "Gene and Prowl want to play."

His face contorts into surprise. "Really? Why?"

"Gene wants Prowl to see how a trade in our culture goes. He wants him to understand that it's not prostitution. He asked me to help since I offered for his help cleaning out my room." That same look crosses his faceplate that crossed Ratchets. "Don't even think about it, Gabe! You know Gene would never ask me to do anything dangerous!"

He seems undeterred. "Just be careful and get out of there if anything goes wrong."

"It's a frag, Gabe, not a battle."

His derma catch mine to easily take the wind out of my vents. I had to admit that his kisses were the best when spontaneous. They made you feel desired. His kiss was like a cup of warm energon on a cold night that soothed all the aches away.

I lean into the touch, hooking a servo around the back of his neck to pull him down a little closer. He reacts properly and slicks his glossa across mine teasingly. Never in a million years had I ever thought I'd be standing here kissing the Captain so openly back when this all started. Instead, I assumed I would only ever be a frag bot without any other uses.

When he pulls away I give a soft grunt of displeasure. He smiles knowingly. "Save your energy for tonight. If I can tell anything, it's that Prowl will need a lot of coaxing," he kisses the top of my helm lightly. "But, you're the best mech for that; you're probably the most tantalizing of us all."

I heat at his compliment. I hadn't ever seen myself as that but now that he mentioned it…he was right. I was pretty good at making unwilling mechs enjoy the moment. Perhaps, that wasn't the most welcome compliment for other people but for me…it was a huge contrast to what it used to be like. I never thought of myself as attractive until Ratch came around.

"I'll keep Ratchet occupied, you worry about Prowl," he smirks, patting me lightly on the aft before walking away.

* * *

><p>I sat on Gene's couch waiting. The other mech was still in the washing racks and I was, honestly, an emotional wreck. How would this go? I was having a hard time imagining myself in something like this but if it were for Gene…I would endure. Perhaps I would even enjoy myself?<p>

My body flinched when the door swished open. Standing there was the small medic with a large container of what appeared to be high-grade. I had to admit, he was an attractive young mech with his large, doe optics and slender, gently curved body. I could get past the lacking of digits on his servos, just as I had with Gene.

He smiles gently as he comes over to set the high-grade on the table in front of me. "I thought this might help tonight," he offers, going to grab some cubes from a cabinet. "Gene in the wash racks?"

I nod slowly, taking the offered cube so he can pour me a drink. "So, how…I mean…I'm not even…" stuttering was so uncharacteristic of me.

Sitting down next to me, he sidles up to my side to get comfortable. It was unnerving to have him so close but I quickly sipped at the high grade to ease my tension. "Don't stress yourself, Prowl," he soothes, sipping at his own cube. "It's all up to Gene because he's the one that I'm repaying but it's also for you." His faceplate eases into a look of gratitude. "Thank you for trying to understand. It means a lot to not just Gene, but all of us that you're stepping out of your comfort zone."

"It's not betrayal to you?"

Shock registers on his faceplate. "Betrayal? Oh, to interface with someone that isn't your lover? No, of course not. We don't usually keep exclusive lovers, honestly. We usually just interface when the fancy hits or when it is pertinent to offer. You're not betraying Gene by doing this and he would never think that."

I feel a little better hearing it from more than one mech. At least I knew that this was indeed a common thing and that I wouldn't hurt Gene's feelings. "Should I feel jealous when he takes up an offer from someone else?" I ask, feeling that Sermin was the best mech to ask. He seemed kind enough to offer truthful advice.

He thinks for a second, giving me a bit of time to finish my first cube. He refills it idly before shrugging. "I know it's normal for Cybertronians to bond with their lovers for life but…we don't really have the option of bonding so we don't feel that kind of requirement out of a relationship, honestly." Pausing in his explination, he smiles. "I guess you just have to understand that no matter who he frags, he will always come back to you and still enjoy your company. A frag is a frag but compatibility, companionship, is much more important."

His words easily set my mind at ease or maybe it was the high-grade but either way, I felt better. "He's taking a long time," I mutter absently, glancing towards the door that lead to his berthroom.

"Yeah he is," Sermin agrees, before his aft is planted right in my lap. I have enough coherency to not run away but not enough to keep the high grade in my cube. A good bit of it spills right down the front of us, splattering blue across our spark-chambers. "Oh, what a waste!"

He proceeds to lean down and lap at the high-grade with his glossa. I sputter uselessly as my body suddenly heats at an exponential rate. I feel his slick appendage easily glide across lines and ridges before pushing between cables of my neck to tease sensitive wires.

I should push him away. Gene was the one getting the deal, not me. I should…oh slag he was moving downwards. My cube of high grade was suddenly plucked from my servo and I glanced up to see Gene smirking down over up, casually leaning on the back of the couch. Heat flashed across my faceplate at the combination of his gaze and the glossa that suddenly ran across my panel.

"Sermin, you're so impatient," he comments, sipping at the high-grade as he moves around to sit on the couch facing us. I twitch as he settles down to watch feeling only more aroused by his gaze. It was a minor distraction until Sermin's fingers were dipping into a joint that I knew held my panel's manual switch.

His fingers easily find it and my panel comes open so that my spike pressurized right into his waiting oral cavity. I jerk and moan at the feeling of his deft glossa undulating against the underside as he creates just the right amount of suction. Had I known Gene was bringing in an expert then I might have done this sooner. This Drone was…phenomenal and was very quickly bringing me to my overload.

"You're so beautiful," I hear Gene whisper, his elbows resting on his knees as he watches us. I stammer incoherently as Sermin's ministrations quickened and became more intense.

"S-Sermin, s-stop I'm going t-" I plead desperately, pressing my servo to his helm even as I know he isn't going to stop. I buck a little as I overload, suddenly overwhelmed by a sensation I hadn't felt in centuries. When was the last time someone had even seen my spike? When was the last time I had seen my own spike?

I slumped back on the couch, panting air into my overheated system as Sermin stands up. His servo was gentle against my spark chamber as he saunters over to place himself on Gene's lap. Seeing the petite Drone's curved hips and rounded aft placed on the larger mech's lap was…strangely arousing. I almost didn't want to admit it but…I had to.

Gene tips some high-grade into the smaller mech's oral cavity as he stares at me. I felt a sudden spike of pleasure again. It had been a long time since I had indulged my needs and my body was very obviously overdue. I was just about ready to go again, honestly.

Sermin's panel opens suddenly and I watch as Gene uses his free servo to slip down the mech's body until his fingers are probing the slick valve. Slowly, the finger starts to move deeper until the mech is a mewling mess of sounds and spasms. Gene keeps his optics on me, nibbling gently on neck cables until another finger is added.

He sets the cube down after a bit of foreplay and easily stands up with Sermin in his arms. "Berth, now," he commands, easily coming to grab my arm so he can practically drag me to his berth.

We tumble onto the berth in a haphazard pile of limbs and parts until I find Sermin on top of me, kissing my derma passionately. "I like being the valve," he whispers breathlessly. "Do you want to spike me or Gene?"

I look over his shoulder at Gene who looks a little hesitant. "Gene?"

Sermin giggles cutely. "He's never been the valve before."

My optics widen slightly. "Really? Why?" I'm surprised I can talk so calmly when Sermin is grinding into me wantonly. The look on Gene's face is one of indecision but I can see that he was tempted. "I'll—ah—be gentle."

He eases forward until his derma connect with mine and Sermin is slowly crawling off of me to lie flat on his back. "Okay," he agrees, easily being guided to sit between Sermin's open legs.

"Deal with him," I command, quickly becoming the dominant mech in the room. Sermin, quickly kisses the trembling mech. I watch Gene's panel click open so I can very clearly see his valve, dripping already with lubricant. "Alright, spike him."

The soft groan of Sermin is intoxicating as Gene slips inside just as I push a finger into the mech's valve. He archs his back, instinctively jerking his hips forward. Sermin whimpers in pleasure, clamping his legs around the mech's back to pull him forward.

I set back on my pedes to gently stretch the unused valve. It was tight, as expected, but very well lubricated so I had no problems getting two and then three fingers into his valve until the mech was a writhing mess.

"I'm going to spike you now," I whisper, getting on my knees to position myself. Sermin's moans were loud but as I slipped into Gene, he made the most arousing groan. It was like his whole body relaxed into the sensation of my spike and I quickly thrust into him so that I could give him more.

A rhythm was set so that when I thrust forward so did Gene and the three of us were thrown the most intense frag of my life. I had never had two lovers at one time but I found that I enjoyed the slag out of it. It was enjoyable to thrust forward so that Gene thrust into Sermin; it was almost like fragging two mechs at once.

It didn't take us long until we were all reaching our limits. Gene was the first to succumb to his overload and spilt his transfluid into Sermin which prompted the mech to arch and overload as well. The picture of the two covered in the smaller bot's transfluid did it for me and I gave one last thrust before spilling into the mech's body.

We collapsed, me against Gene's back and Gene holding Sermin on the large berth. No words were needed to express what had just happened. I had to admit that this was a great trade. Who wouldn't want to use this system? It would encourage just about anyone to help other mechs!

"I think…" I pant softly, nuzzling Gene's neck cables. "I could get used to this."

* * *

><p>"I-I don't think he's—ah—coming!" Ratchet gasps as I shove him against a wall. I had my arms up under his knees and my glossa in his neck cables.<p>

"No," I smirk, teasing the mech by putting pressure on his valve but not thrusting fully. "But I know someone whose going to be."

"Not if you don't fragging spike me!" he snaps.

He screams as I slam home into his valve, stealing his derma in a kiss. His body shudders as I easily work him over my spike. He was heavy, but not that heavy. I liked tossing him around like a race-bot; I know he liked it too because his valve was weeping heavily around my spike.

"Primus, Gabe!" he cries out, trying to move against my spike freely. He couldn't though; I had him pinned against a wall just so I could control him. "B-Berth—oh—now!"

"Not on your life, Ratch," I chuckle deviously, slowly raising him to slam him down around me again.

"S-Slag-head!" he curses before begging for more.

Deciding he had been teased enough, I start a hard, fast rhythm that takes the words right out of him and leaves him a babbling mess of a medic. I loved reducing him to this state; he was far too grumpy when he wasn't being fragged into some kind of surface.

"You're so beautiful when you're being spiked," I whisper into his audio receptor seductively. He whines desperately, so close even I could feel it. "Overload for me, Ratch."

As if on cue, he arches his back and transfluid splashes against our spark chambers obscenely. I thrust a couple more times before his clenching valve causes my own overload. I slump against him a little but try not to crush him against the wall.

"Did Sermin put you up to this?" he finally finds the coherency to ask, hugging my neck tightly.

"Yeah but he didn't really need to; I always want to frag you senseless," I chuckle, easily carrying him to the berthroom where I gently deposit him. I quickly clean us up and settle against him. "They're fine, Ratch. Have faith. They'll convince Prowl."

He huffs but doesn't have the energy to argue. "I know. I just worry."

I smile, watching him drift into recharge. "I know you do."

* * *

><p><span><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Well this is about two years late and totally plotless but I figured I would ease into the groove with a smutty chapter first and then dig into the plot next chapter!

I'm off to bed! Good night and I hope you liked it!


	35. Bleed Like Me: Part 12

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones, GenexProwl

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Violence. Mention of torture.

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>The closer the date came to Shockwave landing, the more anxious I became. All of the Drones were all coded the right way but I still felt like it was all going to come crashing down around us very quickly. I had Gene and Prowl go over the coding almost every day since they fixed it but they kept telling me that they couldn't find any flaws with it.<p>

"Ratchet," Dante soothes, running his servos down my back struts. It helps a little to ease my tight shoulders but I couldn't help it; Shockwave was the most devious, dangerous mech in the whole Decepticon army. He must have something up his preverbal sleeve that would make this all crumble. "We've done everything we can possibly do. Now we just have to wait."

Dante had taken to coming by the Med-bay as much as possible since I started getting jumpy. It helped to have someone to keep my mind off of the coming conflict but I was a mess of a mech and everyone could see it. I was suddenly so grateful that Gabe took over the leadership position; I wouldn't be fit for leading anyone in my current state.

"I know," I vent softly, staring at the computer screen. To keep Shockwave from figuring out something was wrong, Soundwave had been sending correspondences periodically. Of course, Shockwave had asked why they weren't doing it through video but Soundwave merely disabled the video communications permanently so that he wouldn't suspect. We were just saying it was a common malfunction. He seemed to be buying for now. "It just seems too easy."

The young mech smiles, kneading at my tense neck cables to ease them. "I know but we've got some of the best tacticians and spies in the Drone army and it will be his downfall for making us so well," he laughs, seeming to be unfazed by what would happen.

I ran through the plan in my head quickly. The Nemesis would meet up with Shockwave's ship in a desolate desert in two days. We would open the doors for him with grim news that Megatron had been killed in battle. I would be with the welcoming part, which consisted of Soundwave, who would be acting commander, Gabe and a couple other double digits as body guards. We would invite Shockwave into the ship while our best spies would infiltrate the other ship to free the captives.

After that, it was all about the right things happening at the right time. Gabe and the few double digits we had would take down Shockwave in a sneak attack when we were on the main bridge. The Autobots would be hiding within the ship as well to help with the take down of the other Drones; we wanted as few Drone casualties as possible. I had already stressed the importance of Shockwave's death. He was as insane as they came and wouldn't stop until this world was under his control.

"Besides, Ratchet," he pipes up, breaking my train of thought. "He has 1000-models. They are smaller and less able than the rest of us."

I shake my head. "We don't know that, Dante. They could be his secret weapon. I doubt he would come here with the intension of a takeover without some sort of trick. I just can't imagine they are medics and miners only."

He thinks for a moment before nodding. "I guess you're right. We just have to be ready for anything."

The day very quickly came and I stood, poised, on the top of the Nemisis, hidden from view in my black paintjob. I had my sniper rifle wrapped around my back as we waited for the other ship to land. Once that happened, my team was to infiltrate the ship and rescue the captives. My designation was as a sniper but I also had some coding for infiltration; there were others in my small team of six that were better at it then me but I had been chosen to lead this team.

"_Helm's up,"_ I state over comm-link. _"Shockwave is landing."_

"_Copy that, Sharpshooter,"_ Soundwave responds, shocking me. It was rare for Soundwave to speak up in person let alone over the comm-link.

"_Team Beta, stand-by for my signal,"_ that was Gene our lead tactician. _"Team Alpha is exiting the Nemesis now."_

I watched as the ship slowly settled on the hard, barren dirt and opened up. Shockwave, the huge, hulking mech slowly stepped down the ramp with a handful of Drones. They were all small and wiry; they were the puniest of us all yet. I couldn't understand why he would bring those with him but from what I gathered, the mech was arrogant and probably thought his plan to turn us against Megatron would work without a hitch.

"Shockwave, welcome to Earth," Ratchet steps forward, offering a servo.

The giant mech looks down at Ratchet without any emotion and instead passes him to go to Soundwave. "Where is Megatron?" he asks, towering over the slender communication's officer.

"Megatron: Offline," he states, switching back to his usual way of speaking.

I expected some kind of shock from the giant but he merely nodded. "I see," he says calmly. "You are the new commander of the Decepticons?"

"Affirmative," he nods.

"Where is Starscream?"

"Starscream: Traitor."

"It was bound to happen eventually," he affirms before turning to look condescendingly at Ratchet. "I never expected the medic to defect though. I heard you were a Decepticon now but I had to see with my own optics."

Ratchet does a great job of not bristling indignantly. "I have my reasons, Shockwave."

The way he looks at the medic makes me uncomfortable. It was like he was trying to decide how to dismantle Ratchet right there. I would snipe him right now if he even tried to touch the old model. Ratchet was a hero to the Drones, obviously. I didn't think we would be able to keep a straight face if the mad scientist laid even a finger on him. Ratchet would take it, like he knew he had to, but we were all too invested in the medic to let him go through that again.

"I have captives on my ship," he moves on, easing some of the tension within my team. He seemed like he wasn't ready to for the conflict. "We should move them after you fill me in on Megatron's death."

"Affirmative," Soundwave nods, gesturing for the mech to follow him.

It takes a good five minutes of silence before Gene comes over the comm-link. _"Team Beta, commence Phase 2."_

I check the area again for any Drones from Shockwave's side and gesture. We jump from the shadows of the ship to land within the darkness of the others. We had purposefully planned this at night so we would have an easier time sneaking around. I signaled for the spies to go first before I followed suit, rifle in my servos at the ready.

The less casualties to our breathren the better but if push came to shove, I would take somebot down. I wouldn't let my part of the mission fail. We slowly slipped into the darkest crevices of the ship to hide as a patrol of Drones came through. They passed right by us and with a quick movement, we continued on.

At the right moment, the best hacker of our team branched off and went off on his own. His job was to hack into the computer and cover our rescue. If Shockwave suspected anything then he would come back and the plan would be ruined. We would need to copy some old footage of the prisoners over our movements.

For me, I had another job to do. The schematics of the ship had been memorized into my memory banks long before this moment so we took all of the vents and pipes until I found the right vent.

I was looking down at a white and black mech with a visor. I knew from the briefing that this was Jazz of the Autobots. Patiently, I waited until I heard the guards being incapacitated. There was barely a noise but once the signal came the other four of us undid the vents and we dropped into the cells.

Jazz was up in a moment his body tense and ready for conflict. I saw the slight tremble in his beaten chassis though; he was haggard with scrapes, cuts, dents and dried energon covering his form. "Jazz, my name is Sharpshooter. I'm here on behave of Ratchet and the other Drones. A lot has happened but we're going to get you out of here," I state quickly, sure the others were doing the same exact thing. We would need to convince them to come with us before we could leave.

Shock registers on his faceplate. "Sharpshooter? You're a Drone."

The way he speaks is…foreign to me but I nod my helm. "I know, it's an odd occurrence but I have to take you to Ratchet now."

"Ratch's a 'con now," he huffs, glaring dangerously. His servos were trembling slightly so I pulled out a capped cube of energon to offer. He looks at it dubiously. "'s it poison?"

I chuckle lightly. "No, you look like you could use it."

He comes forward at an achingly slow pace but eventually takes it from my servo and downs the whole thing in one gulp. "Thanks, Sharpshooter."

"General, there's one missing."

"Beta," Jazz points out easily, tossing the cube to the side. "Shockwave's been interrogatin' her since we left Cybertron. She'd be in tha interrogation chamber."

"Slag," I mutter, feeling the mission slowly adapting in my processor. "Alright, I'll go find her. Lennox, you take Jazz and—"

"Nah," he interrupts, cracking his finger joints easily. "'m goin' with ya."

"No sir, I can't allow that," I sigh, even though I had a feeling it would be moot. _"Joel, I need you to reroute the interrogation room as wel."_

"_Copy that."_

Jazz stands behind me, uncomfortably close. "'m goin' whether ya like it or not."

I shake my helm. "I know," I mutter. "Everyone else, follow the rest of the plan and get the others to Arcee at the rendezvous point."

I watch as Mirage, Perceptor and a large mech that hadn't been on the list being escorted out through the secret passages that Soundwave had given us. Good thing, that huge mech wouldn't fit through the air vents like we had originally planned.

Jazz looks down at me for instructions with a slanted smirk on his faceplate. "Wha's next, Sharp?"

The nickname was…welcomed. I had expected some fight from this group about following Drone orders but it seemed that Jazz was smart enough to see that we were a lot smarter than most gave us credit for. I actually could see some respect in that visor, which was odd because it was a visor. Maybe I was making it up.

"Alright, we need to sneak to the interrogation room," I state, knowing this was the Autobot's best spy so he shouldn't have any issue with that. "We'll incapacitate the Drones guarding the room and then take Beta with us."

He nods and follows my lead to blend into the shadows. I find it easy to do this with Jazz; he was quick on his pedes, nimble and silent. He was very obviously as good as we had been told in our briefing. I was glad to have him by my side as we easily took out the guards and slid them aside so no one would find them. By the time they woke up…they would be liberated.

"_Interrogation room's clear, General,"_ I hear Joel state as I come to the door.

"_Copy that. Get to the rendezvous point," _I order before slipping into the room. The pungent smell of energon floods my system, causing me to flinch. Then, my optics land on the body of what used to be a feme. She was hanging from the ceiling from chains, helm down against her chestplate and the ground below her was covered in dried energon. She had cuts all across her body and I saw that her helicopter blades were sitting on a table across the room. They looked like they had been ripped from her body one-by-one.

"Primus, Beta!" Jazz stutters, rushing forward to grab her around the waist. She whimpers automatically. "Thank Primus you're still functionin'! Hit tha button, Sharp."

I rush over to hit the button on the wall that releases the feme from the stasis cuffs. She crumples against Jazz's form, now sobbing air into her vents. "I-I didn't tell him…a-anything," she cries against Jazz's spark chamber desperately. "I-I promise!"

Jazz looked miserable. "Stop talkin', Beta. We'll get ya ta Ratchet. He'll patch ya up." The name of our hero only makes her scream out louder. "Shush now, we need to get you out of here quietly."

His visor looks up at me and I nod, offering my back to the feme. He hesitates but slowly takes my rifle in exchange for the helicopter. "Grab her blades," I whisper, easily carrying the light as air feme. She felt so tiny against my back. "Alright, we'll go out the secret way."

Quickly, we slip through the secret passages that run through the ship until we emerge in the night from the roof. Jazz looks around and easily helps me up out of the ship. We slowly descent down the back of the roof and jog in the direction I know is the rendezvous point is.

When we get there, my team comes up to help set the young feme on a flat rock. Sermin was there with a couple of medics behind him. "Oh Primus," he whispers taking in the injuries. "What the frag happened to her?!"

He gets to work even through the uncharacteristic use of foul language. "Shockwave tortured her the whole way here," the large mech states from the back. "The fact that she's still functioning means she didn't tell him anything."

"Is she going to make it through, Ironhide?" the small telescope, Perceptor, asks in a small voice.

Sermin quickly starts to patch her up even as she screams in agony. I see Jazz's servos clench in anger and I gently reach out to touch his shoulder. He looks shocked. "She'll be fine, Jazz. Sermin is Ratchet's assistant CMO. Besides, she got this far…she won't give up now."

He looks a little better and nods. "Tha's all fine an' good but now I feel like kickin' some major aft."

I smirk, enjoying his anger because it was something I could understand. "Then let's go back.

* * *

><p>The battle happened like lightning once we entered the bridge. Shockwave wasn't stupid but he was surprised when I was the one to jump from his right to take him down. We fell…hard. The sound of clashing metal was sharp in my audios but his fist was a lot more painful as it connected with my abdomen.<p>

Ratchet hadn't been lying when he said the slagger could fight but I wasn't expecting such force from a scientist. I quickly regrouped a couple steps away before pouncing into his mid-section to tumble to the ground. My fist connected with his single optic but his large plasma cannon was quick to put me in its sights.

I rolled off quickly, hearing the blast connect with the wall. Battle was going on with the other Drones but they were easily incapacitated. My own cannon shot at the raising mech and managed to knock him back just a bit. It was enough of an advantage to take a running start.

"Shockwave!" I heard an unfamiliar voice call out just as a small body pressed against mine.

It was a small Drone from Shockwave's army and I was shocked into stillness that he was so small. We truly were getting smaller and smaller. "1054, get off of him!" Shockwave commands, sounding a little frantic. It was the first bit of emotion that I had seen from the mech and it shocked me.

"I won't let him hurt you!" he screams, digging his small talons into my sides uselessly. "I'll protect you until the end!"

Something started to warm in the small body and I felt my spark pulse. "Gabe move!" I vaguely heard Ratchet shout just as the small body self-destructed and my body was enveloped in flames.

I felt my spark stop as Gabe was swallowed by a large, powerful explosion. We were all thrown back a bit as the heat scorched our bodies. My pedes stayed under me enough for me to rush forward even before the smoke cleared.

"Gabe!" I shout, fumbling blindly to find the large body. Please, Primus, Please, not Gabe! I couldn't deal with it if he were gone.

"R-Ratch," the feeble voice whispers just a few feet to my right.

I rush over, waving the smoke away so I can see his body a little better. He looked bad, real bad. His body was scorched and his right arm was blown clean off. His face mask was gone and I could see that it had protected his faceplate enough to keep him from getting another scar. I quickly started closing the energon vein in his arm that was leaking.

"G-Glad you're here, doc," he whispers, reaching up with his remaining servo to touch my faceplate.

"Shut up, you glitch," I snap, feeling my spark racing faster than it ever had before. I was a veteran medic but…I had never been so invested in one mech before. It would be the same if Dante or Sermin or Gene were in the same situation. "You need to stay still. I won't let you die. I refuse to let you go!"

"Thanks, doc," he sputters as his optics offline.

"No! Stay with me Gabe!" I scream, quickly trying to find the worst wound on him. Even as the hulking shadow of Shockwave loomed over me, I worked. I wouldn't let this mech die. I wouldn't let him go! I had already lost Puck. I wouldn't lose Gabe too! "Slag you, Shockwave! Slag you!"

He just hovers, not moving, just watching. "It's no use, Ratchet. That bomb was enough to take out a small human population. It was point black. He's doomed."

I grit my denta and continue to work on him, taking solace in the small flutter of a spark beat that I heard. He would need a full transfusion of energon and a replacement limb. I would need to patch small lacerations along his chassis and he would need an eon of recharge. He would make it.

"Why do you work so hard for a simple drone?" he finally asks, still looming over me.

"He's not just a Drone!" I roar at the mech, working to patch a small energon leak that was taking energy away from the mech's spark. It made his spark a little stronger. "He's Gabriel…he's my friend and my companion…he's the General and so much more but I don't expect you to understand that! I love him as I love Dante and Gene and Sermin and P-Puck! I love them all! They're all unique individuals!"

Shockwave's surprise was palpable. He crouches down, looking at me as I finally start to weld scratches closed. "I know, Ratchet, I created them."

"And yet you put a self-destruct mechanism in them?!" I sob, feeling hopeless as the body starts to grow cold even as I am starting to fix wires.

He looks down at the large Drone in my arms and nods. "I didn't know the extent of their personalities until the 1000 models. 1054 was my lover."

I jerk my helm up to stare at him, shocked. "Wh-What?"

He looks at the scorch on the floor behind us where 1054 detonated. "I don't know if I could say I loved him but…he entertained me and kept me company. I had planned on freeing the Drones from Megatron when I arrived but…that has already been done for me."

I feel a small group of Drones surround me as Sermin and his team start to work furiously on Gabe. "So this was all for nothing?" I whisper, looking down as someone hooks the mech up to an energon transfusion cube.

Shockwave seems morbidly amused. "I did not anticipate your defection. I did not anticipate that you would unlock my Drones. I did not anticipate finding that my Drones were all wonderful individuals." He looks around as Autobots start to relax, shocked and confused. "I am…tired…of war. I want peace."

"Don't listen to him, Ratchet!"

I jerk my helm around to see a familiar white and red body leaning heavily against another familiarly large body. My spark jumps as I see my apprentice and the closest thing I've ever had to a sparkling leaning against one of my greatest friends, Ironhide. Beta was torn up and weathered with a helicopter blade in her servo and the others missing; Ironhide…I thought he had perished long ago.

"Beta…Ironhide…" I whisper just before a fist connects with my faceplate, throwing me back. I groan, looking up to see Shockwave glaring down at me with his one huge optic. "Get Gabe out of here!"

Sermin, the other medics and a couple of Autobots quickly take the mech away as I stand up to face the menacing Decepticon. "So naïve, Ratchet, for a second you actually believed me! It's amusing," he spits.

"Well, I believe as Optimus does…everyone is worthy of a second chance," I snap.

"Not Shockwave," I watch Beta step forward, limping on a bad pede. The fact that she could walk at all was nothing short of a miracle. "I won't let you leave here functioning."

He tilts his helm taunting her. "And what is a cripple such as yourself going to do about it?"

She growls, moving forward to charge the massive creature. I reach out to stop her but Ironhide's servo stops me; he shakes his helm seriously. "Let her go."

I feel as if my spark is dying yet again. First Gabe and now the only Cybertronian I had ever felt any sort of Creator instincts for. "Ironhide, I can't lose her," I state, feeling his grip tighten.

"She won't die," he assures me right as the two Cybertronians clash. "She can handle this."

"What's wrong Shockwave? Afraid to fight a cripple? You didn't seem to feel that way while you were torturing me!" she jabs, just as her blade makes contact with his gun. He pushes it off but she is ready as her body slips under and between his legs to hook the blade around his ankle. Her servo spurts blood as she grabs the other end to jerk the mech's pede out from underneath him.

He falls forward just as she is climbing onto his back. Bucking, he tosses her off but she only attacks him again, swiping her blade at the cord that connects him to his gun. It splatters energon and he roars in pain. She is, surprisingly, fast for her current condition and runs around him like some small Earthen rodent until he is growling in frustration.

"You'll tire out soon," he chuckles darkly.

"Not before I destroy you!" she shouts, dropping to the ground to shove herself back right as he was about to walk overtop of her. She slips between his pedes again and manages to slice right through the cords that kept his knees functional.

He crumples to the floor uselessly. His servo comes up but his gun is completely disconnected. "Even now I could destroy you!"

"Give it a rest, Shockwave! This cripple just kicked your aft!" she laughs, slicing his helm right off of his shoulders.

For a few moments, the room is silent until she finally shoves her blade into his spark chamber as if to put the period at the end of the mech's story. The monster was dead…after so many centuries of dealing with the disgusting demented creature…he was dead.

Beta turns around slowly to look at me. "I-I think I need a medic," she chuckles before crumbling to the floor.

* * *

><p><strong><span>To be continued...<span>**

* * *

><p>AN: Whoo! Plot! Well, that's good for today! One more chapter and then I'll be done! I hope you enjoyed it!


	36. Bleed Like Me: Part 13 (End)

**Bleed Like Me**

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones, GenexProwl

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual situations.

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

* * *

><p>My optics were slow to power up, but when they finally did I was temporarily blinded. It had, obviously, been a long time since they had been online. The first thing I noticed was the almost oppressive brightness of the lights above me; then, I smelt the common signs of a medbay. It smelt like sanitizer with some energon mixed in.<p>

The next thing I noticed was the soft sounds coming from not too far away. It sounded like someone was speaking but it was a femme's vocalizer, which was…odd. It wasn't until I heard the combined laugh of the unfamiliar with the familiar lilt of Ratchet's that I got curious enough to sit up.

My arm didn't quite set me up properly though so I clunked back down to my side. I was missing an arm. I looked down at the nub with a pang that went straight through my spark.

"Gabe," I hear the achingly familiar vocalizer whisper as he came closer. "How are you feeling?"

I look up at Ratchet's faceplate and feel my fear disappear. At least Ratchet was alive. I could live without an arm. "What happened to Shockwave?" I ask, allowing him to help me sit up. My equalizer spun wildly but the sturdy medic easily held me there until I adjusted.

Ratchet smiles softly. "Dead."

"Good," I state, glancing up to see a small femme sitting across the room on a stool. She had her blue optics on me but I couldn't say where she was from. This must have been Beta, the femme Ratchet was so worried about being in Shockwave's servos.

The old model follows my gaze and grunts. "Gabe, this is my apprentice and old friend, Beta." I nod and she smiles, seeming a little withdrawn all of a sudden. "She was the one who took out Shockwave."

Now his interest was piqued. This little femme had taken on a monster like Shockwave? To top that all off, she had dents and scratches and new weld marks that he wasn't sure were from the fight or from the flight out here. Ratchet had said she would probably take a huge hit just because it was well known how close she was to the medic.

She looks away from them showing the recently welded blades on her back and on the back of her helm. Yeah, she had taken a heavy hit. He was no medic but he had seen enough wings ripped right out of their owners to know this had been part of her torture. He would rather have his arm cut off than a wing. Grounding a flier was the worst torture.

"How do you feel?" Ratchet asks, taking my attention from the femme. "I'm working on your arm but it's a long progress. I had hoped to get it done before you came back."

Quickly, I wrap my good arm around the mech's shoulders and pull him into my chestplate. He gives an indignant gasp but when I press my faceplate into his neck cables, he relaxes a little. "I'm glad you're okay."

He huffs affectionately, running a servo down my back soothingly. "That's supposed to be my line."

I smile, nibbling at his cables teasingly. "Don't worry about me, Ratch. I'll always be around; you can't get rid of me that easy."

Distantly, I hear the door to the medbay swish open and close again but I was too worried about the tense mech in my arms—arm. He slowly started to relax when it became clear we were alone. "I-I wasn't worried," he stutters but I know better. He worried about us more than we worried about ourselves.

"I know."

* * *

><p>I set aside another plasma blaster in its rightful place as I took inventory in the Nemesis' armory. There were a lot of weapons now that the war was officially over. It had been two Earth days that the treaty between the Autobots and Drones was signed so we had no more need for weapons. Actually, the Drones had been more than happy to throw their weapons in my direction when I had mentioned taking inventory.<p>

Now, I was hip deep in a slag mess of weapons. The armory was the largest I had seen since Cybertron had fizzled out completely. Honestly, it was nice…to be doing what I did before the war was…comforting. I hadn't done something like this in thousands of years and it was a welcome change from the normal battles that had seemed to take up my existence.

I was so distracted that the swish of the door made me jump around. I went for the cannon on my arm only to remember that it had already been stashed in the armory of the Autobot base. All I had now was a smaller sized gun that flipped out, aimed right at the small femme that smiled slightly.

"Beta, Primus, shouldn't you still be in the medbay?" I ask, putting away the gun quickly. She looked better, truthfully; her blades were back in place and for the most part her armor was patched up. She still looked scuffed and tired but…we all did.

She looks around at the armory but shrugs. "Ratch said I'm good. I just can't do anything too strenuous," she explains, walking over to look at one of the biggest guns in the armory. It had once belonged to Megatron and I could see the understanding on her recently welded faceplate.

I noticed the slight limp in the leg that had a metal cast wrapped and bolted onto it. That was strut damage so I knew she must still be in some pain. She was good at ignoring it; a talent she had learnt with our crew to hide the fact that she needed repairs. Her and Ratchet were so much alike that I was tempted to think they were true Creator and Sparkling.

"You should be recharging," I state, shaking myself out of my thoughts.

She glances at me over her shoulder and chuckles. "I wouldn't even listen if Ratchet said the same thing. What makes you think I'd listen to an old model such as yourself?"

It was a teasing remark; it was something I hadn't heard from her in…too long. "Hey now, the war may be over but I'm still your superior!" I grunt back, giving as good as I got. Before the war, she had been such a shy and withdrawn femme; now, she was just as tough as the rest of us.

Her faceplate breaks into a smile that crinkles the pliant metal around her optics. It was a smile that I had long forgotten; it was the smile of someone who didn't have to worry about the next battle or where they would get their next cube of energon. We were just a couple of friends having a light conversation full of banter and teases.

"You best be careful, I'll tell Ratch you're straining me!"

I fake shock and horror. "You must have a death wish for me!"

She laughs, helm tilted back and everything. It was the laugh that brought those dangerous emotions up to the surface. They were emotions I could ignore in the war because of everything that helped to distract me. Now, I feared they would begin to fester in how hopeless they were. Not to mention, Beta's age was about half of mine. I had become General around the same time she had been sparked; it was wrong of an old model like myself to be attracted to such a young femme.

I sober a little. She should be with Bumblebee or Smokescreen. They were much closer to her age and much better suitors for her than some old model like me. Now that the war had ended those young 'bots would probably be all over her; slag, some of the Drones might even be in that line. I refused to acknowledge how much it hurt to think about her being held or caressed by somebot else.

"You should go rest," I repeat when I can't find anything safe to say. I turn away but I can see that she noticed the change in my demeanor. She was a good judge of character and her empathy was unparalleled by any 'bot but Ratchet and Prime.

"Ironhide," she whispers, small servo touching my arm. The metal lit on fire where she gently tucked her servo to pull at me until I turned to look at her. "I'm fine, really."

I huffed, ignoring my aching spark. "How can you be?!" I finally shout at the soft, forgiving look on her faceplate. "Primus knows you've been through the Pit and back!"

Her face opens up in shock. "Ironhide—"

"Slag, Beta! Anyone else would be holed up in their quarters for…for…vorns! They wouldn't be able to look at themselves! He-He…Primus…" I wasn't even aware that I had been holding this all in. The fact that she had been interrogated…_tortured_ was very apparent but we had all overheard Drones talking about their Master's unholy attraction to her. Sometimes, at night, while the others recharged, I could hear her screams echoing through the hallways or maybe it was just my imagination; maybe my night cycles had turned dark and I was imaging the medic being violated in the worst possible ways.

She reaches up, standing on the tips of her pedes, to touch my faceplate. "Ironhide, please, don't think like that. If it weren't me then it would be you or Jazz or Perceptor. I couldn't let that happen. I know how to turn off my pain sensors; you don't."

I jerk away, angry at no one but myself. "It should have been me! I'm no medic but I have much thicker metal than you!" I rage, clenching my fists at the fact that I have nothing to take my anger out on. "Jazz is the Third-in-Command and I'm the head of the military! Why didn't he go for us!? You knew nothing!"

"I told him I did, Ironhide!" she shouts over my roar. I stop and turn slowly to look at her; she had that expression on her faceplate. I had gotten so used to that look of defiance in the short time I had been saved by this one femme; if I weren't for her and her defiant behavior, I wouldn't be here today. "I told him that I had modified my processor to keep his Cortical Psychic Patch from working; I told him I had information that I didn't so he would focus on me instead of move on to you! If he were destroying me then he couldn't possibly get to you or the others!"

Her impassioned words struck something deep in my spark. This femme had taken unnecessary damages so as to distract that slagger of a hacker from moving on to us. It was stupid, very stupid, but the noblest thing I had ever heard and something I couldn't be angry at her for because…I would have done much the same thing if I thought it would keep that psycho from touching her.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I had her faceplate in my servos and was devouring her mouth. She squeaks in shock but I hardly even heard the sound as I drowned in her. It was as if all of my tension was released in that one moment of reckless tactlessness that I never wanted to end. How long had I wanted to do this? How many recharge cycles had been full of her images? It was utterly freeing to feel such an elation to finally let go and just indulge in her.

Once I finally realized what I was doing, I jerked away. I put a good couple of yards between us even as she stumbled forward slightly. She caught herself and looks up at me with dim, hazy optics full of surprise and…something else.

"I-I have to go," I mutter, turning to head for the secondary door to the armory.

"You're running away?" she asks.

It was the tone of her vocalizer that stopped me in my tracks. Sure, my pride and dignity had a lot to do with it but it was the absolutely dejected sound in her words. I had wronged her; I was supposed to be the one with control. I was supposed to be the one who didn't fall for a small, flier with a big spark.

For a long time, I had convinced myself it was just gratitude for her help in saving my life. I remember being shot down to the point of having a hole blown right out of my abdomen; I remember the order for retreat that I, myself, had given to my team. I could never forget the gentle servos that came afterwards when the battle was over and I was slowly dying among the many other dead or dying mechs.

A tiny, insignificant tug before I felt two servos latch under my arms and start pulling me across the ground. Air vents huffed as the small figure finally found a nice, hidden cave made out of a fallen building. I was hooked up to something via an energon vein in my arm and then felt sweet, soothing relief as whatever was in that energon made me drowsy.

"_Don't worry, sir, I'll have you up in no time,"_ the soft, careful voice said just as her faceplate came across my field of vision. She had a white and red paint job with aristocratic features; it was very obvious she had been well taken care of before the war. It was the smile she gave me that stuck in my processor. _"Just recharge for now."_

And I had, without a care in my processor; I gave my spark over to this young medic who was no older than any of the other new recruits. I had seen her before…somewhere but at the time I couldn't quite place her. It wasn't until I woke up that I found out she used to be Ratchet's apprentice and had been kept within the walls of our base at the time. She was no fighter, they said, and the fact that she had blatantly disobeyed orders and went out into the battlefield to save lives meant she was in a slag-ton of trouble.

It hadn't mattered though. She had saved three of us that day and had proven that she could be an asset out on the field. Ratchet had no less than ordered Prowl, before he left with Prime, to keep her within secured walls out of fear. She was timid, weak and her lack of coordination had been legendary to her team. But…we soon found out just how agile she could be at dodging missiles and other projectiles. She was our only flier on the medic squad so she could get where others couldn't.

She had been irreplaceable after that day.

Now, those emotions that I had grown for the medic had only blossomed. I had hoped it would be just a side-effect of gratitude but…no such luck. I looked at her with the optics of someone pining after a creature they could never touch. I had had the utmost control around her before this very moment.

Now, I had slagged it all to the Pit and back.

"'Hide," she whispers, still a little dazed. "I've always known how you feel about me."

That one sentence was enough to shock me frozen even though all I wanted to do was run. "Y-You have?"

She smiles, coming closer until I flinch and she stops. "Please, 'Hide, I'm not dumb. I can feel the way you look at me when you think I don't know. At first, I was a little unsettled by it but…I've grown to…to enjoy your attention. We've been on a team since I pulled your sorry aft out of that battlefield and I don't mind."

I still feel that sense of fight-or-flight in my spark but I slowly start to relax a little. "What does that mean?"

There is a slight heat to her faceplate for a moment. "Well…I've never really…had someone…be so interested in me," she admits, fiddling with the blades at the back of her helm. It was a motion that she did when she was nervous; I had seen it far too many times not to know what it was. "I'd…I'd like to give…I mean, if you want to…give it a try?"

I visibly recoiled at the thought and I could see the hurt on her faceplate. "No, please, Primus I'm not good at this, Beta!" I step forward to place my servos on her shoulders. "Yes, it's true. I just…I'm bad at this because I've never really…it's been a long time. I'm just…an old model. You should go for somebot like Bumblebee or Smokescreen or, Primus forbid, the twins!"

"First off," she starts, grimacing. "The twins, really? Ew. Secondly, I don't give a frag how old you are! You're starting to sound like the humans, 'Hide! Since when have we ever given a slag about our age?"

She had a point. It wasn't really cultural for us to worry about age; slag, Prime had been with Elita One before she had fallen in battle and their age difference was much like mine and Beta's. Besides, the femme was mature, by force of war, but she was level-headed, compassionate and had a great personality. The twins had never really been quiet back in the beginning about how attractive she was even if she never saw herself that way. Femmes had been such a rare thing after the war started that they had grown a kind of…rare beauty in the ranks.

Walking forward, she folds herself right into his embrace like she had been made for it. Her helm tilts up until she can brush the bottom of his chin with her derma. "I'm not a sparkling, 'Hide. I'm well over the age of consent that was established on Cybertron. I can make my own decisions and I would be a lucky femme to have you as a lover."

I lean my helm down until our derma meet in a slow, steady kiss. She was sturdy for such a small, fragile frame; something, I was prone to forget until she was cutting open Decepticons with only a laser scalpel in some of her most desperate moments. She was everything good that the war had resulted in; she was strong, passionate and compassionate. Even Shockwave's violations couldn't keep her from being less than who she was.

Her fingers dig into my armor even as we fall deeper into each other. I felt her heat against my spark chamber and tried to pull her closer. Even if I hurt her, I couldn't tell because she only moaned into my mouth. It, honestly, made my interface panel ping the ready signal.

I pull away slowly, enjoying the groan of disappointment. "Let's not rush this," he grits out, even as her small fingers are flicking at sensors under his armor. She was a competent medic so he assumed she was quite good at finding those hidden spots.

She smirks, the look something he hadn't seen on her face before. Beta had never been known for her confidence until recently in the war; with Ratchet on Earth, she had had to learn quickly how to fend for herself. She had a natural talent at medicine so it wasn't hard for her to see what good her skills could do.

"Afraid to break me?" she chuckles, nearly dangling from my much taller neck.

I look at her seriously. "You have four day old welds. Yes, I am quite afraid to break you."

She pouts, a habit picked up from the humans, no doubt, and leans back with a vent of air from her mouth. "I've waited so long for you to make a move!" she groans, baring her neck cables to me teasingly. Maybe it wasn't on purpose but I took advantage while I had the moment to run my glossa across those beautiful white and red cables. Her breath hitches in her chest before a deep sigh of pleasure escapes. "Feels nice."

"Yeah?" I smirk, reaching down to pull her legs up around my wide waist. She could barely wrap them around all the way but somehow managed. My resolve, held like iron since the beginning, was slowly starting to crumble as she arched her back into me. I felt the pulsating resonance of her spark press against mine and I walk her back until I find a relatively clear table.

"W-What about going slow?" she whimpers as I lay her across the table and slowly start to tease the rest of her body.

I grunt. "I'm too old for going slow."

Her whisper of an assent is drowned by the gasp that takes over as her body shudders when my fingers run down her interface panel. "G-Good to hear," she sighs, spreading herself out on the table. She was…beautiful. Even with the welds and scrapes and paint scuffs, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid optics on. And something that felt this good could not be wrong.

We were so preoccupied that neither one of us noticed the other mech in the room until a wrench pinged off my helm. "Ow, slag!" I snap, looking around to see a rather irate medic standing right inside the door with a very embarrassed Drone. "Uh…hi Ratch."

"Don't you 'hi, Ratch', me Ironhide," he glares, then shifts his glare when the femme pops her helm over my shoulder. "I came to make sure Beta was okay but…I see she's in pretty capable servos."

For the life of me, I'm not sure why Ratchet was the only mech to make me feel embarrassed about anything. It was too bad that his protégé didn't feel the same. "Ratch, you have the worst timing, ever," she laughs, draping herself over my much larger shoulders casually. "Then again, better now than while I was being fr—"

"Alright, alright!" he shouts just before she can finish. "Just…take this to a non-public place? I don't want the Drones getting the wrong idea!"

"Sure thing, Docbot!" she laughs brightly, the sound tingling where her breath caressed my audios.

Ratchet grumbles something as he walks towards the door; he pauses right before walking out to point a finger at Ironhide. "If you hurt her…I'll disassemble you from the pedes up!" he warns before finally exiting the room with the Drone beside him.

* * *

><p>"Ratch," I chuckle nervously as we walk down the hallway quickly. "Hey! Slow down!" He stops when my servo hooks over his shoulder to pull him into a tight hug that has him huffing irritably. His body eventually relaxes into me and I have to smile. "You knew she'd have to grow up someday and find somebot. At least it's Ironhide and not someone like Knockout."<p>

He sighs harshly against my chest but doesn't protest. "Yeah, I guess you're right. 'Hide will take care of her."

"Everything's going great, Ratch," I soothe, slowly maneuvering him so that he was walking beside me. I had my arm wrapped around his shoulders and was guiding him to his quarters. "The Treaty is signed and the war is over; Autobots and Decepticons and Drones alike are all getting along great! We haven't had any issues assimilating the other Drones into our ranks and disengaging their self-destruct mechanism was surprisingly easy. For once, we have awesome chefs that do wonders with the huge reserves of energon that we have at our disposal! To top that all off, we only lost a couple of Drones in the fight with Shockwave's ship."

His faceplate eases a little but I can see that something is weighing on his mind heavily. "We still can't go back to Cybertron for…Primus knows how long!"

I chuckle. It was very much like Ratchet to worry about something like that. "The humans have welcomed us into their fold as refugees until our planet is habitable again. Gene and Prowl are working with Perceptor to try and find more of our kind to bring to Earth and I think they've found another ship full of Autobots. Sermin is working with the humans to come up with medicines that will save their lives and destroy their reoccurring issues with diseases. Gabe's arm is almost fully repaired and he'll be working with the United Nations to help end the constant wars on this planet. We're doing a lot of good here, Ratchet. If we can keep the humans from doing what we did…then the war wasn't in vain."

Finally, I get Ratchet to his quarters were I settle him on the berth so he can finally get some rest. He had been non-stop since the battle. Gabe had needed instant surgery to repair his horrid wounds; Beta had needed some serious care as well and hadn't really left the old model's side the whole time.

I could imagine what the young flier had gone through in the clutches of Shockwave so it wasn't a surprise that Ratchet had been so protective. He thought she should be a lot worse off than she was but…I had yet to see any sign of processor trauma. In fact, she seemed to be getting along quite well if she were able to move past the violation that had been obvious in her damaged interface array. It was probably best that Ratchet be kept distracted during her courtship with Ironhide. He had a tendency to be protective over those he felt he had failed.

"She'll be fine too, Ratch," I whisper, placing my servos on his faceplate gently.

He takes my servos in his and slowly pulls me to lay across his form on the berth. It made my vents stutter in shock and arousal. Because of everything that had been happening…we hadn't been able to do…anything. I had been so busy worrying about other things that I hadn't taken into account the medic's…needs.

"I know," he smiles, nuzzling up into my neck cables teasingly. "She's strong…I just…wish she would take it a little slower. With the damage…" His face twists into a wince. "I know what happened to her. I just feel like there should be some kind of trauma to her processor."

"She's strong," I say, proud of my steady vocalizer. "We're all pretty strong."

He hums in assent before I capture his derma in a gentle kiss. It was an expelling of a lot of tension from the past couple of days. Whether or not we had been in the ship working or out debating with humans and Autobots alike, it had been a long time since either one of us had indulged our baser needs. And, honestly, it felt fragging good to run my servos across his armor to pluck hidden wires.

His vents hitched and I could feel the heat coming off of the panel pressed against my abdomen. "I missed you, Ratch," I whisper, lathing his spark chamber with my glossa. I push at sensors under his armor to get him to arch up into my body.

"I-I've been right here, g-glitch," he teases, groaning as my glossa brushes across his panel slowly. "D-Dante, s-stop teasing me!"

The begging tone was enough to make my panel pop open but I wasn't ready to end this. I wanted to take my time; I wanted to assure the older mech that everything was going to work out. He didn't have to worry about me or Beta or Sermin or Gabe. He just had to get used to the fact that the war was over; it was time to relax into a time of peace and rebuilding.

His panel snicks open and I instantly press my glossa against the glistening valve presented to me. He keens desperately, reaching down to place a shaking servo against my helm. The look on his faceplate was utter bliss as I teased sensors around the rim of his valve then delved deeper. My finger slowly ran across the rim until he was practically cursing my name.

"D-Dante, for…for frag's sake!" he whimpers as my finger presses forward to seek the sensitive sensors at the back of his valve.

At my own limit, I stand and pull the medic across the berth until his legs could be held in the crook of my arms. "Ratch," I whisper as I plunge forward. His body arches off the berth in what can only be called sensual and his servos scrape at my armor for something to hang onto.

His tight, wet heat is too much. I start to move, a little mercilessly, I must admit but from the incoherent garble coming from Ratchet's vocalizer, he didn't care. My body hums with pleasure and completion as I lean forward, pushing his knees closer to his chest, and catch his mouth. The old bot was surprisingly flexible for someone so bulky and he slowly started to push himself up to meet my thrusts.

Electricity flashed across my optics as my pleasure started to build. I went harder, bending him until I could hit that patch of sensors with every thrust. He screams my name in the most beautiful way possible until I'm a quivering stack of metal and spark energy.

At nearly the same instant, we both reach that peak and overload. My optics short out and I have to admit that it had been far too long since I had last overloaded. Besides that…this meant a lot more than a convenient frag with Ratchet.

"I love you," I whisper in our native language.

He jerks his helm up in shock. "E-Excuse me?" he whispers, disbelief evident in his faceplate.

Undeterred, I said it again. "I love you, Ratchet."

His face slowly relaxes. "I love you too, Dante."

It made me smile even though I knew he loved me. He didn't have to say anything in response. He loved Sermin, Gene and Gabe just as much too. If he could, he would keep all of us to himself but he knew he couldn't do that. Eventually, Sermin and even Gabe might find a mech or femme to complete them just as Gene had done but…not me. I would be with Ratchet forever. He wasn't just my savior…

He was mine.

* * *

><p><span><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah! COMPLETION! Sweet! Well, I hope you enjoyed the remake and the end of the story! I don't know if I'll add anything else to this set of stories but I've got a tiny little bug from re-watching the final season of Transformers: Prime.

Maybe I'll do something with Ratchet and Predaking but we'll just have to see!

Anyways, thank you so much for the two years worth of patience!


	37. Never Crossed My Mind: Part One

**Never Crossed My Mind**

_Universe: _Prime

Rating: MA+

Pairing: PredakingxRatchet

Warnings: Smut.

Description: It never crossed my mind that some kind words would end in this. Now, I'm being courted by Predaking and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Though, perhaps I don't want to.

* * *

><p>"I will keep calling you to see.<p>

If you're sleeping, are you dreaming?

If you're dreaming, are you dreaming of me?

I can't believe you actually picked me."

_Calling You_ by Blue October

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><p>Even before the first punch landed, I told myself that I deserved this. That first one was a hard one too; denting my faceplate and sending system errors across my HUB. I let it toss me across the large expanse of the barren, industrial room. They kept him in a cage like a wild beast even though they knew he had the intelligence and the evolution to transform just like all other Cybertronians. It was cruel and I decided in that moment that even if I were to die like this…at least it would be to placate this abused creature.<p>

Dent after dent, scrape after scrape and volley of blows after volley of blows came against me. I gave myself over. It had been too many years, too many mechs, too many femmes for me to fight now. I took them out of the long locked away part of my processor and scrolled through them. My vents hitched a little as I was flung across the room again and skidded to a halt.

The hulking mech said something about avenging his breathren and I finally couldn't hold it in any longer. "I don't care if you kill me but don't stop with me! Keep slagging everyone until you get straight to Megatron!" I snap, body aching and insides flaring with all sorts of errors. I hadn't been this beaten since the syngen incident.

He pauses, shocked. "What do you mean?"

His ignorance made me suddenly furious. I scrambled to my pedes quickly, squaring up to the towering beast. It shocked the creature to take a step backwards, which was a little heartening for me. "You're not stupid so stop pretending and use that processor you have! Analyze the situation for a moment!" I grit, ignoring all of the pain that was racing across my metal. "We had no idea it was Shockwave's off-base lab! We went in hopes that it would be an energon mine! We followed an energon signal right there!"

"Mere coincidence!" he challenges, filling the gap between us until my spark chamber touched his thighs.

"Like slag it was, it was planted there! They were using synthetic energon so why would they need regular energon in such a high quantity?" I state, feeling the heat coming off of the giant mech. It had been a long time since I had squared up with such a large creature and it felt like I might be sealing my fate.

I watched the predacon's processor working through it until there was no doubt in the creature's faceplate that he had been betrayed. "Why would he do that to his own army?!" he finally demands, a last ditch effort to prove me wrong.

I had been wondering that same thing but it finally clicked as I stood pede-to-pede with the creature that had slagged me to the Pit. "I can only think of one reason and after being at the tail end of your strength I would guess he's afraid of you and all like you!"

The mere thought of Megatron being afraid of something was…unsettling and exhilarating all at the same time. But, with all of the aches and pains in my old body, I could understand the feeling perfectly. Predicons were instinctual and dangerous because of their bestial nature. Megatron knew that as soon as this predicon had learnt to transform then the others would too. He knew there would be an epidemic on his servos if he allowed for more like his monster out there.

Honestly, though, it was the creature's intelligence that frightened me the most.

"You're a smart mech, uh—"

"Predaking," he states proudly, even relaxing a bit, which was odd.

"Predaking, you're something that our Creators told us about to keep us in line. You're a nightmare from a different time. The fact that you're so…intelligent would scare just about anyone," I state, wondering, idly, if I was going to get out of this with my spark intact. I was a little dented but that could be fixed. If I could make it out of this encounter alive then…I could help the others find the ship.

Predaking tilts his large helm to the side, a blatant sign of animal curiosity. "Ratchet, you find me…intelligent?"

I was shocked by the question but shrug noncommittally. "You speak like an aristocrat; you figured out how to transform; and you have the analytical skills better than some mechs I know. You're an intelligent creature being treated like a mindless beast. I just think you deserve better."

I watched the large mech's face as it changed through several different emotions before landing on an expression I never thought I'd see. It was a smile. It was calm, collected and a little grateful. He even reaches out his servo slowly, talons curled in a little so he could run the back of his finger joints against my faceplate.

I blinked in surprise but didn't move for fear that those talons would cause damage. "Thank you, Ratchet. Someday, I will figure out a way to return this kindness," he soothes, almost purrs into the air before he is pulling away. "It's best if you get out of here. I won't hurt you but I cannot promise you won't be caught in the crossfire."

Still very confused, I nod before turning and rushing back into the Nemesis. What the frag just happened? Had that been…no, there's no way. It was just the gesture of someone who wasn't aware of proper protocol when thanking someone.

I put it out of my processor because now was not the time.

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><p>My decision to stay behind was a little bit of a selfish want. Truthfully, and I would never admit this out loud to anyone, but I liked the humans. I found them to be a little barbaric and simple but I also knew they had a lot of things they needed to figure out before they could move forward, evolutionarily speaking. I had a lot of ideas on how to better their medicine as well as energy usage. Cybertron hadn't used fossil fuels since before the Rust Era.<p>

That being said, the humans were quite welcoming of the help. We were trying our best to figure out the toughest problems. By 'we', I mean Agent Fowler, Jack, Miko, Raf and myself. I was pleasantly surprised when the kids turned out to be great help.

I was knocked out of my silent musings about how to aid in the problem of climate change when the space bridge hummed to life. It wasn't all that rare for Autobots to come through when they needed resources that Earth could provide but I was shocked to see Prime walk through.

It was the look on his faceplate that made me pause on my way to him, suspicious. He had the look of someone who knew far too much.

"What?" I finds myself asking even before the Prime says anything. I suddenly wondered if I still had paint on my face from when the kids decided to prank me while I was recharging. I was quite sure I got all of it off yesterday. "What?!"

From within his subspace, the large mech pulled a crystal. It was red and black and beautiful. I rushed forward to look at it closer; I hadn't seen a crystal of that size in a long time. They were extinct, I had thought. In fact, these looked like—

"Are these from Praxus?!" I nearly squawk from my shock.

The Prime chuckles lightly. "I assume so, but I did not get it for you."

I look up at my old friend in shock. "Oh, a souvenir for the kids?" I straighten, resetting my vocalizer and trying not to look at the crystal longingly.

Again, he laughs. "No, I mean that I found this on the bridge yesterday with a note that had your name on it."

I suddenly understood the mischievous look the mech had given me and was still giving me. Why would someone be so sneaky? If they wanted to give me something like this why wouldn't they just— "Oh!" I gasp, everything clicking into place. "Oh…well…slag."

The Prime hands over the crystal gently and I take it easily. It still had the 'dirt' that it had been in dusted along the bottom of it; if I put it in some Cybertronian soil I could grow my own crystal garden. How wonderful would that be? I smile softly at the thought of going back to a hobby I hadn't indulged in since…

"So, who's the admirer?" Prime finally asks, obviously enjoying how much joy I was getting out of the gift.

"Frag, Prime, I don't even know!" I admit, grabbing a large, flat box and placing the crystal gently into it.

Prime comes over and takes a large cube of what I assume was dirt out of his subspace and pours it into the box so I can pack the crystals in. Next, I get a little bit of energon and pour it over the crystals. They give a soft glow as they soaked up the liquid and it dimly lights a small area.

When I was finished, I looked up to see the Prime was still looking at me with questioning optics. "Really, Orion, I would tell you if I had a partner! Slag, who would even do this? Who would know me well enough other than you to give this to me? None of the younger bots know where I grew up," I was actually kind of flattered that someone would take the time to try and figure it all out.

If it turned out to be the twins playing a prank on me, by Primus, I would slag them up so bad no one, not even their long-dead Creators would recognize them. But, I knew for certain that they had no idea where I had been sparked or raised.

In fact, Prime, Ironhide, Jazz and Prowl were the only ones who knew me well enough to have that information. Ironhide was now seeing Arcee so he was sure that was a dead end. Prime had been my best and oldest friend but we had both agreed that romance between the two of us was definitely not possible. We saw each other as brothers more than friends most of the time and that would be weird.

Prime smiles and claps me on the shoulder playfully. "Well, whoever did this must truly care. Praxus is a far ways away from where we are on the planet. They had to travel a very far distance to get it. If you ever figure out who it is…you might just owe them a big thank-you, old friend," he smirks, suddenly turning into a young, crude Orion.

I sigh heavily. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Orion."

My crystals were growing really well within the base and I smiled every morning when I 'watered' them. The kids were curious and even teased me about having a secret admirer but I didn't mind. Actually, I loved my new crystals. It had been so long since I had even seen the crystals of the Helix Gardens and the fact that they were growing again was a joy. Maybe, in some time, I could go back and cultivate the whole garden again so mechs and femmes of all kinds could go out and sit there once again.

They were healthy and put off a dim glow pretty much all the time now. The humans found them intriguing and had wanted their own gardens. Of course, being the sap that I was, I had broken off a piece for each of them and set up their own human-sized gardens. I taught them how to take care of the gardens and it was a great way to start the day for them, right before I was to hold their homeschool lessons.

Everyone was still shocked when I had offered to homeschool them at the base so they didn't have to go to school. I figured it was better than the broken education system they had now. Agent Fowler and myself were working on the country's education system, actually, but it was coming along slowly. So, to circumvent the three from getting a slaggy education, I taught them.

It was during one of these lessons that the bridge opened. I looked over to see Prime step through. "Orion," I smile, stepping away from the children to get closer to him.

"Did Ratchet's secret admirer send something else?!" Miko nearly screams, causing my faceplate to heat quickly.

"No, Miko, now stop!" I snap but it doesn't have much bite to it.

"Actually," the Prime smirks, reaching into his subspace to pull something out. It was a root of some kind. "I found this on my desk today."

I sputter, looking at the root then to the mech. "Will you please stop bridging over every time you find something with my name on it appears?!"

The kids scramble over and up to the second level so they can look at what is in the Prime's servo. "What is it?" Raf asks, reaching out to poke it with his finger.

The bigger mech smiles at the children, amused by their curiosity. "It's the root of a once rare plant on our planet. I believe it's to decorate Ratchet's crystal garden," he chuckles, going over to the small table of varying size gardens. "You all have gardens. They look lovely."

I watch the mech ask the children about how they're tending to their gardens even as I am handed the root. I look it over and realize this is the root to the Voxan Mica. It was a crystal tree that produced a sweet scent and the small crystal flowers it grew could be used to purify energon. It was something, yet again, that I had thought would be extinct.

This grew nowhere near Praxus. This was almost halfway around the planet. Who was finding these things and giving them to me? They should stay where they were! If I were getting all of these rare things then…oh slag, what if they went extinct because of me?

"Don't fret, old friend," Prime smiles gently, sensing my emotions. "I checked and these are growing wild around where Vox used to be. It's not so rare anymore but still a great thing to add to your garden."

The fact that the mech had checked to make sure it wasn't the only one said a lot about how well we knew each other. I decided that since I had it, I might as well plant it. I went over to the garden and showed the children how to planet the root so that it would grow. I promised that when it got big enough, each of the children would get their own piece to plant.

I was flattered by the gestures but also a little confused. I couldn't think of anyone who would take the time to get these things. Even after asking Prime, there wasn't anyone in the base on Cybertron that had gone to those places. So, who? Who could be doing this for this old model?

It was a couple more weeks before Prime was stepping through the bridge again.

"Finally, that took too long!" Miko sighs, leaning over the banister of the second level. She was giddy. "What'd he get this time?!"

I roll my optics, a habit picked up from the very child I was chiding, but I could tell by looking at the mech why he was here. And, to no one's surprise, the Prime reached into his subspace. Everyone leaned in close, including me as the Prime opened his servo slowly.

I gasp sharply, my servos clenching at the beautiful piece of flora. It was a small little cluster of pink crystals that looked so fragile. I reach out, almost reverently, to pluck the precious thing out of the mech's servo.

"What is it?" Jack asks, obviously getting the weird mood.

"It's a Yussian cluster flower," I whisper, slowly taking it over to my garden to get it into the dirt before it dies.

I could practically hear the kids' look of confusion but my friend answered for me; good thing, my vocalizer was pretty much broken. "Yuss was a city that had a primitive indigenous lifeform before the war. It was right in the middle of the Acid Wastes, which was a region that was plagued by earthquakes, nuclear instability and acid rain. These crystals are extremely rare and only bloom at certain times of a vorn. They are incredibly hard to obtain. Whoever got this…they went through a lot of trouble."

I couldn't have said it any better. Whoever was doing this was risking their spark to get me gifts. I couldn't let them keep doing this. Whoever it was, I had to find them and tell them to stop.

"Old friend, perhaps, you should come visit Cybertron," the Prime states, somehow reading my processor. How did he constantly do that? "Someone is very obviously trying to get your attention. Perhaps, it is time to stop this before they get hurt?"

I understood the mech's fears and shared them. If one of the younger bots was doing this and got hurt…I would never forgive myself.

I waited the couple of days until the weekend so that the kids wouldn't miss any of their education. I only packed a couple of tools and walked through the bridge with my slowly growing crystal garden. Several of my comrades were there to greet me and gaped at the garden in awe.

They asked questions that made me realize Prime hadn't said a word to anyone. I just said that Prime had been gathering what little crystals he could find and this was the outcome of months even though it had only been a couple weeks. I had a feeling most of them were placated by the answer but not Wheeljack who quirked an optic ridge but didn't say anything.

It was nice to be home, honestly. The repairs and rebuilding were slow but they were pretty close to finishing a full city; it looked good too. There was a hospital where First Aid worked repairing small dents or major issues with new mechs and femmes, which they had a lot of. I was happy to see all of them as I walked through the town, stopping when Ironhide, who was in a very rare mood, hugged the slag out of me.

"Good to see you, Doc," he grunts, a small smile on his faceplate. Honestly, I had assumed Ironhide had been killed a long time ago in battle. He wasn't the kind of keep quiet when he was alive. I was glad to see that wasn't the case.

"You too, 'Hide."

I paused to catch up with the mech and found that he had been picked up on another planet by the natives and nursed back to health. There were a lot of dents and weld scars on the mech and, honestly, it fit him perfectly. He had stayed on that planet until Prowl had picked him up on the way back to Cybertron. I figured he would be upset that he hadn't had a servo in the last battle and I was right because that was pretty much all the slagger talked about as we walked around the small city.

It was nice…having the mech there and talking like we hadn't just gone through a horrid war. It was nice to pretend that I hadn't lost hundreds of thousands of friends and comrades. It was such a waste of life. Now it was over, though.

I relaxed into the familiar atmosphere of comradery and light laughter. We all gathered in the large mess hall to enjoy some much-needed high-grade. It was a lot of fun to be able to let go and get totally slagged. I drank far too much in such a short time but no one blamed me.

Somewhere in the night, I found myself alone on the roof of the mess hall. I wasn't sure how I got there but I was sure someone must have been there with me because I definitely couldn't walk without help. Maybe they had left me to rest or just stumbled off drunkenly.

Either way, I brought my optics online and saw the beautiful sky that had long been forgotten. I saw all of the constellations; saw all of the planets and the lack of light from the city made everything so crystal clear. It made me smile even as I slowly fell into a peaceful recharge.

I had the weirdest recharge of my life. At some point, I was flying, tucked on the back of some large beast. The wings flapped at regular intervals and the metal under my body hummed with life. It felt nice. I could feel the cool air brushing across my metal; I was too overcharged to lift my helm but I could see the sky passing me by as we flew.

Then, with the sound of something's large spark pounding against my helm, I fell back into a calm recharge cycle.

My systems were reluctant to reboot when the light started to creep across my faceplate. I groaned out of displeasure but was distantly impressed that I didn't have a hangover. Instead, I was tempted to reset my clock and just recharge for another hour…maybe longer.

I was too comfortable. My body felt like it was being cradled and I wondered who had taken me back to my berth. I would bet anything it had been Orion. He was usually the toughest of us all and I could never decide if that was because of how big he was or because of the Matrix.

Then, my 'berth' moved.

My optics came online so quickly they glitched. Resetting them, I came to see a large wall of orange and black metal. Something was wrapped around me and the further I looked the more and more my spark clenched in fear. What was this?

The body shuddered as it started to stir from my sudden movement. A large, spiny helm lifted and realization hit me hard. "Predaking?" I whisper, watching the drowsy optics of the creature flicker a couple of times.

Finally, the creature slowly unravels around me and stands to stretch. He looked like a human cat when he put his front pedes out and stretched out his back then rocked back on his back pedes to do it again. His body quickly transforms and I'm amazed at how much mass he subspaces; it was a wonder he was so dense.

"What am I doing here, Predaking?" I ask quietly, standing up to my pedes. My back struts demand it so I lift my arms up in the air and allow the struts to pop. It felt amazing and I was shocked I had recharged so well against the predicon's body.

He takes a couple steps forward until he is dangerously close. "I saw you lying on the roof and figured you needed a safer place to rest," he points out easily. His faceplate was a lot more open than I had ever seen it before. He had a tough faceplate but it fit him..

"So you took me from there and brought me here?" I ask, sounding dumb, I'm sure. I knew what he was saying and to a predicon I guess it made sense. He knew he was strong and dangerous so he assumed I was in danger.

His face slides into an easy smirk. "You were overcharged and sleeping in an open place. There are predators on this planet, you know. I worried they would take you," he states logically. I wasn't aware there were winged predators still on our planet; were they predicons? Or maybe they were just the ones we had back before the war.

I found that his smirk was far too…something. I'm not sure why but it made my spark throb. It was just…new. He looked confident and dangerous; I had seen wild cats look at their food like that while they played with them.

"W-Well, thank you?" I whisper, rubbing the back of my helm nervously. "You could have just gotten one of the Autobots. They would have taken me to my berth."

He bristles so suddenly it shocks me. What had I said? "No one is allowed to take you except me."

It was the most possessive sentence I had ever heard uttered. My processor must have glitched because when I became aware again the back of a large servo was running down my cheek. It made me jump back a little. "Why are you touching me like that?" I gasp, rubbing my cheek where I could still feel his heat.

He seemed amused. "You did not seem to mind last night."

I sputter indignantly at his obvious innuendo. My processor quickly told me that he probably didn't mean it like the humans would mean it but I still felt embarrassed. "What is that supposed to mean?!" I snap, crossing my arms over my spark chamber defiantly.

His smirk widens dangerously and he takes a step closer. His field brushed mine as he loomed over me. Primus, he was tall and broad. His body, if he wanted to, could completely cover mine and no one would know I was there. I quickly banished such a thought when it brought unwelcome images.

"You were quite welcoming to my touch last night," he explains, crossing his arms over his spark chamber to mimic me. "You reacted quite…obscenely when I touched this." He reaches out to brush my chevron before I can stop him. My vents hitch at the sudden shock of pleasure that races through my system; why would he be touching my chevron while I was sleeping?

I pull back again but this time my back hits the cave wall. Slag, nowhere else to go now. He can see how hopeless my situation is and presses a large servo against the wall above my helm. I was effectively trapped between a rock and a hard place. Had I been less boxy, I might be able to duck under his arm and escape but…where would I go? I had no idea where I was and this mech could fly at incredible speeds.

"I had assumed my intentions were clear but I guess I was not upfront enough for you, medic," he ponders teasingly, staring down at me from his height. His shadow was cast right over me so his optics seemed all that much brighter.

Why hadn't I noticed how attractive he was until now? His optics were…beautiful in their golden color and his faceplate had a certain rustic charm to it. He was built for battle with wide shoulders and thick, spiny armor. There was a bestial look in his optics that I had no trouble reading right at that moment.

Wait, what had he said? "I-Intentions? What do you mean?" I ask, baffled.

He quirks an optic ridge but huffs an indignant sigh. "I had assumed the Prime would deliver the crystals to you but I could not be certain. I can see he did not."

"That was you?!" I squeak in an embarrassing way. "W-Why?! Why would you go through so much trouble?!"

His faceplate is blank for a second before it softens. "I promised I would find a way to thank you, didn't I? I overheard a conversation between the Prime and Prowl about your love of crystals and figured it would be the best way. Did you like them?" his question is rhetorical, of course. He knew exactly how I enjoyed them.

I feel the heat starting to creep into my faceplate. How could I have known it had been the predicon all along? I would assume he would give me dead animals like any other predator but…of course, he wouldn't. He was too smart for that. He had thought them out much more than that. He had even spied on the Autobots to figure out what to get for me. How could I have known?

"I—Yes, they're…beautiful. Thank you," I finally admit, feeling that it was only necessary. What was I going to do? Lie to him? No, I couldn't do that; not when he was looking at me so longingly for an answer.

His face explodes in a smile that was so genuine and so unexpected that I can't speak. "I'm glad you like them," he seems relieved almost like he had worried. What the frag was this guy?! I had never thought…Primus, I had never tried to think that the predicon would be able to court like this.

My spark was fluttering stupidly in its chamber and I wanted to die. Why was his smile so fragging adorable? Why did it feel so good to make him so happy? "Slag, Predaking, you went to Yuss! Why would you risk your aft?!" I finally shout, catching him off guard. "You could have been killed or melted or—"

I was effectively silenced when his derma covered mine. Unfamiliar heat scortched through my body at the small touch; he wasn't even moving, just…standing there. Was he waiting for me to do something? Slag, should I do something? Did I want to do something? I definitely didn't. Nope. No way.

He pulled away after what felt like a lifetime and smirked down at me. My processor was spinning with heat and confusion; was I getting enough energon to those important areas? Maybe I was malfunctioning.

"I'm a predicon. I function on instinct. I was stating my claim on you," he shrugs, nonchalant as ever.

"S-Stating—what?!"

He chuckles, leaning down to nuzzle my cheek. The more I stood there, the more he reminded me of a cat from Earth. Slag, I could even hear a deep rumble running through his chest; was he purring?! "I desire you, Ratchet. I wish to mate with you. I want to jump your bones, as the humans say. I would enjoy interfacing with you. I want to fr—"

"Okay, I get the point!" I groan, covering my faceplate with my servos. How had I gotten into this? What had I done to deserve something like this? "But, why me? I'm old and grouchy and unattractive!"

The look on his face is of utter distain. "You are plenty attractive!" he snaps, reaching out so quickly I flinched. He merely cradled the side of my helm in one large servo. "You were kind to me even when I was not. You told me the truth not because it would save your metal but because you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew I would understand. You don't see me as a mindless monster. You treat me like…a Cybertronian."

I felt my spark clench at his words. He was right, in some regards. I did see him as intelligent and he hadn't been looked at that way by the Decepticons. That day, I had resigned myself to death when I told him the truth. Had I know it would save me…would I have done it for the same reason?

His servo was warm on the side of my helm as I looked at him. I could see the intelligence in his optics and it shocked me that no one else had noticed. He wasn't a brute. In fact, he had taken more thought to get my attention than anyone ever had.

"I like your presence," he whispers, the words barely audible. They struck something inside of me that I hadn't realized was cold; not many people said they enjoyed my company unless high-grade was involved.

I was slagged, I realized. This mech was slowly melting my ice-cold spark with a couple of words that I knew were genuine. He wasn't trying to mess with me or prank me or string me along. He didn't know how. He was purely acting on base instincts that were as old as Primus himself. I had always heard predicons mated for life but…maybe I was making that up.

I sigh. "Fine, I…slag, I don't know what to say."

He leans close, smirk wide and devious. "Can I court you?"

Leaning my helm back until it smacks lightly against the rock wall, I heave a heavy sigh. "Yes, okay, fine! I accept your offer!"

When I got back to the base, everyone was worried. They kept asking me where I had gone and I couldn't help but be annoyed. "I went for a walk when I woke up," I state, easing the noise around me. I had a lot of thinking to do.

I excuse myself to get some energon for the morning and think back on the way it felt to ride astride the large dragon-like creature. Ride was a bad way of describing that. It made stupid images pop into my processor.

I must have been standing there zoning out for a few minutes because I jumped when Wheeljack's faceplate was far too close to mine. "Alright, Doc, spill it," he whispers, quirking an amused optic ridge.

"W-What are you talking about?!" I sputter, managing to keep the cube in my servo.

He rolls his optics; he must have gotten that from the humans too. "Please, I know about the crystals. I heard Prime talking about it to Jazz. Come on, you saw the one giving you that slag, didn't you?"

There's no way I could lie to Wheeljack. I could probably fake it with Bulkhead but not to this bot. He was far too cunning; he would know if I lied to him. "Yes," I sigh, glaring at him for being so perceptive.

"Who is it?" he smirks, getting too close for comfort.

I scoff indignantly. "Like I would tell you."

I start to walk away but he chuckles. "Predaking, huh?"

My optics widen as I jerk around to point at him with a dangerous finger. "If you tell anyone, I'll slag you!"

He throws his servos up innocently. "Hey, Doc, you're secret's safe with me! Did you frag him?"

I rub the pliable metal between my optics. "No, he's merely showing his interest in me. I…agreed to be courted."

"Wow, I'm impressed, Docbot!" he laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. "I never would have imagined you and the Predicon getting along!"

I expected to feel embarrassed and I did, a little, but I was actually kind of…excited. It had been a long time since anyone had courted me; he had done great so far. I was interested to see where this…courtship might go and the fact that Wheeljack was supportive seemed promising.

In fact, I was excited to see him again tonight. I was only here for one more night so he had insisted that we spend more time together. Wheeljack said he would cover for me, which was nice, but I wondered if telling him was the right thing to do. Wheeljack wasn't a gossiper but I worried he might tell Bulkhead, who was definitely a gossip.

If they found out though…who would care? Predaking had been relatively quiet since he had come to Cybertron; he hadn't bothered anyone and was doing his own thing. If he wasn't a bother then Prime would leave him alone.

Right as the others were starting to go to their berths, I slipped out of the base and went to the spot where Predaking had dropped me off last time. It was about a mile out from the base and behind a large rock outcrop that hid the large beast well.

He was already there, waiting in his mech form. His attention was on a datapad, which I had no idea how he got. It was a second before he looked up and smiled at me. My spark gave an embarrassing flutter as he subspaced the datapad and focused completely on me.

His strides were long and sure as he approached me. He reached out to run a servo down the side of my arm until it settled around my fingers. Such a gentle touch for such a large creature shocked me.

"What took you so long?" he teases with a smirk.

I check my internal clock and scoff. "I'm early," I point out lightly.

"Come, if we don't hurry, we'll miss it," he states, backing away to transform into his beast mode. He looks at me with his fiery optics and gestures for me to climb on. It was something that I still wasn't used to.

I stepped forward and let him help me onto his back so that I could sit right where his wings sprouted from his body. He gave me a second to settle before taking off into the sky. It was exhilarating to feel the wind rush past as I pressed my faceplate closer to him. He felt so alive; I could feel his pulsing spark through every part of him that I touched.

We flew for a good bit of time just enjoying the silence and the views. I watched as the destroyed planet passed me by; I could see that things were starting to grow again. I could see the plant life starting to sprout even from such an extreme height. The planet was glowing dimly and I felt so suddenly happy that it shocked me.

His steady wings and the feel of him under me gently lulled me into recharge. I felt complete trust that he wouldn't drop me; I knew he was more careful than that. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so relaxed around someone. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had recharged so peacefully, not even before the war.

_:Ratchet:_ his voice soothed over my comm.-link. I had given him the frequency this morning just in case he needed to get in contact with me. Besides, he couldn't speak in his beast mode, it seemed. _:We're here:_

I groggily sit up and allow my processor to come back online. As soon as I slip off his back and land on my pedes I grumble at how bright it is suddenly. He chuckles when I finally realize it was nighttime and online my optics.

My processor proceeds to stop working and I just gape, mouth open, at what he had brought me to. I knew this place; it was drilled in my processor even with the massive change that had taken place. It was…overrun with crystals now. And when I say overrun, I mean it! The crystals were three times as tall as Predaking and as wide as two of him. They were of all different shapes and colors and they all glowed so brightly it seemed like the sun was still out.

"Slag," I whisper, staring at the overgrown crystal garden in awe. "How…how did it survive?"

When I look up at the predicon, he had this sincere smile on his faceplate that said more than I would ever need about how he felt. He was elated that I was in such a state of awe. It was like seeing my home for the first time. "I think the soil retained some of the nutrients and without anything fighting for those resources the crystals just kept growing. I've traced their roots for about a hundred miles out from the center. They're very resilient crystals."

He was right of course. I knew they were hard to kill but I never imagined they'd be this hard to get rid of. They had survived the destruction of our world; they had stayed where so many other creatures and fauna had disappeared into the void. I could still see where the buildings had been and were slowly being overtaken by the crystals.

"This was my home," I smile sadly. "This was once where the Helix Gardens sat. It was a place of meditation and quiet. It was my favorite place to come to when I needed to study."

Predaking followed as I walked around the crystal covered city. I pointed out the buildings of my past to him; I didn't even think about the fact that I was telling this predicon things that I had never told anyone but Orion. There was the building that used to be my primary school; over there was the library; and over in that direction was where the courthouse used to stand.

I stopped in front of one decimated building and hesitated. The walls were all but gone or overrun with crystals but I could see it in my processor just as it had been before. "This was the house I grew up in," I whisper, stepping forward to run my servo down the piece of the wall that was still there.

The images of my Creators popped so suddenly into my processor that I had to nearly shove them back into the locked part of my memories. It hurt, even today, to think about them. They were the one thing I never talked about with anyone and it ripped my spark to shreds to imagine them during the attack.

I felt the air hitch in my vents before I could hold it back. It was a moment of weakness that drew the soft, gentle touch of the predicon. He slowly eased me back so that my faceplate was buried in his neck cables. It took me a second to realize he was on his knees to make this more comfortable for me.

"My Creators were destroyed in the attack Megatron orchestrated near the beginning of the war. I was with Orion as a Senator and advisor. He destroyed everything. He wanted this old, traditional town to be the example of how the Decepticons were ushering in a new era," I whisper, too distraught to be embarrassed by the sound of my vocalizer. It was more cracks than it was tones. "Everyone but Bluestreak was destroyed. They called me right before it happened. They only told me they loved me and then…nothing."

His servos clutch me closer to his body and I take comfort in him. Never, in a million years, would I have believed I would be here with the predicon, mourning the loss of my family. I never had time back then to mourn because the war started right after that attack. Orion needed me so I buried the sadness and desolate feelings in favor of a calm, steady confidence that the troops needed.

We stood like that for a long time. He kept his arms wrapped around me as I spoke of them; the sound was muffled by his neck but I refused to let go. It was a comfort I had denied myself for too long. He was so willing to listen that I just had to tell him. Orion would listen if I asked but this was different; it felt like he could truly understand.

"I'm the only one of my kind," he says after a few moments of quiet. "My creator was Shockwave. I will never know what it feels like to have a family so…just be grateful that they were so wonderful. You always have the good memories of them."

His words were a balm to my aching spark and I reached out to touch his spark chamber. "Perhaps, one day, we'll find another like you," I smile, trying to be optimistic. "You couldn't have been Shockwave's only creation. We'll search for his lab and find out."

His smile is achingly genuine. "I would only believe it if it came from you, Ratchet."

Then he leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on my derma. It took me by surprise but I wouldn't admit the disappointment that it was so short. He sure did have a lot of control for a mech that had, not too long ago, been but a beast.

"Come," he guides me a ways away from the town to a hill where we can sit and look down at the whole garden. It was a beautiful view as I sat down and was about to lay back when he sat down behind me. His legs rested on either side of me as he pulled me to rest against his spark chamber.

We sit in silence for a few moments, just staring out at the gardens, which produced a calming glow at this distance. I relax against him, listening to the steady, rhythmic pulse of his spark and the soft rumble that I had become familiar with. He was content and so was I.

"Had I known you would have such a strong reaction, I would not have brought you," he whispers, hardly breaking the silence. His arms were warm as they wrapped around my body to hold me close.

I smile sadly. "No, don't apologize. This was…nice. I needed this."

He hums. "Must you go back to Earth tomorrow? I would have you stay here so I can easily court you."

I laugh at the teasing tone. "I have a duty to the children back on Earth. I am their teacher. Jack is almost at the age to join the military but the other two will need plenty of education for a good amount of time," I explain, feeling completely at ease with those big arms trapping me to the spot.

"Then I will come back with you," he states firmly.

I sigh, thinking how wonderful it would be to have someone like him to help me out around the base. He was strong, able and very willing to be of some assistance, I was sure. "You would be much less at home there," I say sadly. "You have much more space here than you would on Earth. Besides, you would be uncomfortable in the base with how large you are."

Even before he said anything, I could hear his lewd thoughts. "Speaking of large and uncomfortable…" he trails off suggestively.

His teasing tone earns him a light smack on the servo. He laughs, tilting his helm back and letting go. "Courting, remember? That comes much later," I remind him easily.

"It will take much longer if you go back to Earth," he chides.

He may be joking but I could hear the edge of his tone. He really didn't want me to go back and it hurt. This was serious for him; he was really into this. If my spark fluttered one more time I'd test myself for a murmur.

Sitting up, I quickly shifted so I could face him. I had to sit on my knees to be at optic level with him. "Are you worried that I'll become interested in someone else?" I ask, dead serious.

I could already see I had nailed it right on the head. "It has crossed my processor a few times," he admits, knowing he can't lie to me.

"I'm surrounded by small humans every day, Pred," I smile, pressing my forehead against his. "I can promise you I'm not interested in that way."

It eases his tension a little as he presses his servos against my hips. "What about all of those young bots in that city they're building. Not interested in a young bot to keep you warm?" he was teasing me now.

I glare at him. "I'm too old for any of them. They wouldn't know what to do with me if they got their servos on me."

He hums in interest. "Yeah? I know what to do with you." His long talons gently start to slip under the cracks in my armor to slide across sensors. It made my fans kick up a little faster to compensate for the sudden rush of heat.

"You were just born a couple of years ago," I try to say without stumbling. "How much could you—ah!"

His glossa was slowly sliding across my neck cables, peeking under to flick across the nodes there. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of my interface array; it had been a long time since I had really noticed it. There was no need for it so why should he pay attention?

"Don't worry about my skills," he growls possessively. "I'm a being of bestial nature; pleasing my mate is and will always be my main objective."

I couldn't even process that sentence as his derma closed around a cable to suck. My vision exploded in white and static. Where had he learnt to do something like that?

Ratchet's servos dug into the mech's shoulders desperately. "P-Pred," he whimpers as denta nip at primed cable. He was driving me crazy. "H-Haven't been t-touched like this since—"

He shuts me up by biting down on my cable hard enough to draw energon. I was so deep in the pleasure that it only sparked more fire. He lapped at the essence with his glossa; his body was so hot against mine.

"I'll make you forget about every past lover," he promises, pushing me back until I was on my back. He crawled over me, every bit as graceful as a wild cat from Earth. His optics, bright and full of lust, saw only me in that moment; he was extremely handsome. "I'm going to make sure I'm the only creature you think about."

The promise made Ratchet's interface array ping the ready. He was possessive and protective and for some reason…that revved my engine. I never thought I'd be that kind of mech but here I was, whimpering and wanton, under a much larger, much more dominant lover.

Well, so much for courting.

His derma was about to go back to my neck cables but I intercepted so I could initiate a real kiss. He dives in enthusiastically. I didn't even fight back when his glossa slips past my derma and ravishes me. Finally, I couldn't help but think as I wrap my arms around his neck and arch up into his body.

We lay there for a long time, alternating between kissing and touching and talking about everything we could think of. I couldn't help but notice how much we seemed like horny younglings, touching their first lover. It was so nice to be able to just lie around in the grass and enjoy someone's body. I felt no pressure to take anything further even though my body desperately wanted more.

Somehow, the creature that had once been mindless and controlled my instinct had more control than I did. After a while, he stands and transforms into his beast mode. For a second, I'm confused but then realize that the sun was coming up. We had stayed up all night without me even realizing it.

The trip back to the base seemed much quicker. Probably, because I fell into recharge again until we landed and I was woken by the large mech. He allows me to slip off his back, transforms and devours my mouth until I'm breathless. It was a painfully obvious good-bye kiss that had my spark throbbing.

"Until we meet again," he smiles, after pulling away.

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><p><span><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p>AN: I never expected this story to come out but it just overtook me and now I need to go to bed. I'll start on the next part tomorrow after school. I hope you like it! I'm in love with these two already! x3


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